


Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

by stacy_l



Category: NCIS
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Assault, Captivity, Dark, Disturbing Themes, Drama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Neglect, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge, Sexual Assault, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-03-24 02:23:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 148,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13801383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stacy_l/pseuds/stacy_l
Summary: Combine revenge with deception, stir in a little espionage, add a dash of embezzlement and what does one have? Betrayal, a possible spy in their midst and one missing, presumed dead agent. Director Vance needs to clean house again.





	1. Prologue: Missing

**Author's Note:**

> * Some subjects contained within may be disturbing to some readers, so please read ALL of the warnings before proceeding! Thank you.
> 
> Now for basics: So while this is the first "official" NCIS story I have released online I have several more in the works. I tend to focus on the team dynamics that include Ziva David and the main director as Vance. Don't get me wrong loved Jenny Sheppard, like Ellie and rather enjoyed Kate I just tend to be more interested in this particular team. 
> 
> In regards to this particular story: Some chapters will be short, some quite lengthy and the story will cover not only Tony's captivity but also his recovery in depth. He will have PTSD, and he WILL need his team to help him conquer it as well. The struggle is half the battle to reuniting the team as they once were. 
> 
> For a point of reference for those who seek them I'd place this story around mid-season 6, Season 7, possibly into Season 8. Jenny Sheppard is dead, the DC MCRT struggles to move on, trust is wavering, the mole has been found and another is surfacing, tensions begin to build again.

His senses came back in a loud confusing cacophony of bright colors, shrill sounds and loud pants. His first reaction was to open his eyes, but as he did so seeing nothing but darkness made his heart lurch wildly in his chest racing at what seemed like a thousand beats per minute before he became aware of rough texture against his skin. As the realization of why he couldn’t see seeped in he felt a brief glimmer of relief. Short lived as a voice much louder than the pounding in his head and much, much closer to him broke through, “Ah Anthony you’re finally awake. I do apologize for having to keep you so heavily sedated for so long, but it is necessary what with having to smuggle you across international borders and all.”

_International borders?_ Surely he wasn’t serious…no, no, someone would have seen…surely? Of course, he knew how easy it was to smuggle someone in or out of a country if one wanted to desperately enough and that made him tense. Opening his mouth to speak he felt a hand immediately press over it as the person who had just spoken simply said, “No, no, no, not yet young Anthony, you must remain silent just a bit longer. If you cannot do that then the gag goes in and you’ll be given another dose of sedative. Trust me you’re already pumped full, tranquilized to make your transport much, much easier. I’m actually a little surprised you’re even semi-conscious. Impressive.”

Okay that just sounded WAY creepier than it no doubt should. What the hell was going on?

Despite being informed he was pumped full of sedatives and shouldn’t even be coherent he still tried to push past the noise and persistent fog that filled his mind. He turned his head, or at least thought he had, before trying to move his arms. His fingers must have at least twitched for his captor sounded delighted as he spoke again, “You are a very stubborn one. As I said you’re doped to the gills, so I fear movement will be a struggle. No doubt you’ll continue to try resistance anyways though…”

And as quickly as the new voice filtered in it began to fade as he fought against tenuous consciousness before losing the battle and succumbing to blackness once more.


	2. Forgotten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up! Torture starts early in this story as there is focus on it as well as recovery so be prepared.

_Washington DC - Present Day_

McGee was tired, hell exhausted was a better description. All he really wanted to do was go home, crawl into bed and sleep for days on end. As he glanced at his partner he noticed her gaze centered, focused intently across from her. Sighing in frustration he found himself asking, “Why don’t we ever talk about it anymore?”

“About what McGee?”

“You know what.”

Turning her intense gaze his way she said nothing merely sat there staring at him. After several moments he continued, “You know I hate to even go into Abby’s lab anymore. It’s like a shrine to him or something, and every time I go in… I just hate it.”

“Abby misses him.”

“Yeah, yeah I know so does Gibbs but, you know, I don’t, not really.”

“McGee what is the matter with you?”

His frustration turned to anger as he snapped, “What’s the matter with me? HE left us. It’s not like he didn’t have a choice or something. He just up and quit, walked out on us, walked out on the team, on NCIS. So why do we still even care?”

Ziva felt her anger boiling and quickly harshly responded in a low voice, “You are the one who brokered the subject, McGee.”

“Broached, it’s broached and I didn’t mean to.”

“We all miss him in our own way.”

“Well I don’t. He left us!”

“And because he did you are angry, yes?”

“Furious.”

“You may feel that way but not all of us do.”

McGee deflated as he sighed and apologized again. Ziva simply nodded and returned her attention to her work as well. When Gibbs entered they both sat up and focused on him. They’re eyes following him as he headed towards his desk then sat down. When he said or did nothing else they both returned to their work neither seeing Gibbs lift his own eyes towards the still empty desk across from Ziva’s.

****

_Abyei, North Sudan - Present Day_

He hated this forced submission crap, hated being under the control of another, hated knowing at present his life was in the hands of a madman hell bent on torture and revenge. Mentally preparing for his next “session” he softly sighed. Tensing as his captor further broke the silence with, “It is such a shame, is it not? Surely someone will care enough to come fetch you from me.”

“What?”

“Ah, Anthony, we shall see. Thus far they believe you to be dead. What do you think would happen if they were to suddenly discover you are alive and have been all along? Oh the sweet torment that will cause. It will be enough.”

“Enough?”

“To drive your precious Gibbs insane.”

Swallowing hard Tony actually felt true fear for the first time in a long time. Up until now he assumed they _were_ searching for him, had possibly believed he left them, but now? Now he was being told they thought he was dead all along, which meant he had truly been forgotten.

He was certain for so long that at least someone might care enough to look. He expected nothing from McGee, Ziva or hell even Gibbs, for they all seemed to stop caring long ago. He had hoped that at least Palmer would be out there and now…

He screamed in a mix of surprise and pain as the blindfold that had been so crudely secured over his eyes for so long was suddenly ripped away. His instant reaction was to jerk his head away, conceal his eyes in darkness until they stopped burning and watering. As the burning increased he unconsciously yanked viciously downwards gritting his teeth and struggling to bite back a second scream as pain ricocheted up and down arms that had long since surpassed total numbness from their firmly held position above his head.

Trying to block the pain in his burning eyes became even more of a struggle as the newly awakened pain in his arms stole his breath. As he fought to push back the new pain he could hear a series of muffled words and as the pain eased more he could finally make some out, “Relax… Pain will diminish… have my word…”

“Go to…”

Almost instantly a hand covered his mouth as the voice became clearer, “Now, Anthony, we have spoken about this. Do you need another reminder of what will happen if you don’t mind your tongue?”

He tensed jaw tightening as he managed to finally open his eyes at least to slits and slowly shook his head. The penalty for speaking out of turn was far to grave. He recalled quite vividly the consequences for such actions. Hating himself more as he allowed the threat to quell his tongue. Bastard had all the power and damned well knew it. Last time he spoke “out of turn” he had an up close and personal experience with a variation of the old waterboard treatment, ripped his throat damned near to pieces not to mention how many times he had to endure that feeling of drowning in his own blood. They said they’d damned near lost him due to the crude torture he had been forced to endure. It took him weeks to recover and he sure as hell wasn’t ready to experience a repeat of that horrid time.

As his tormentor said a soft, “Good.” He refocused on him able to open his eyes up a bit more and crying out again as they were exposed to several sequential flashes which his brain quickly processed as having been from a camera.

As the hand eased off his mouth he ran his tongue over his dry cracked lips managing, “This won’t work.”

His captor smiled as he patted Tony on his cheek making him flinch and jerk back releasing a low hiss as the pain in his arms briefly sparked to life again.

His tormentor reached for the camera and held it up as he simply provided, “Do you know what is amazing about these, Agent DiNozzo?”

Relieved as the fierce burning in his eyes had calmed to a dull, constant but tolerable ache he focused intently on him. His captor smiled then snapped yet another picture of him causing the pain in his eyes to briefly spike yet again.

Knowing if he didn’t attempt to at least humor the bastard he’d keep taking those damned pictures just to make the pain spike he answered hoarsely, “What’s that?”

“Digital film comes with a time stamp, so you see when your Agent Gibbs receives these in the mail and has your…computer geek, is that what you call him? Ah, no matter, when he examines these particular images he will be able to no doubt prove from which make and model of camera they are from, what type of digital software was used and… Oh yes that these particular images are in fact truly authentic and do you know why that is important, my dear Anthony?”

He glowered at the man gritting his teeth and turning his head away as he raised the camera to no doubt take yet _another_ photo. Damned bastard. He waited hoping the man would get rid of the damned thing soon, and turning towards him as he continued, “Because it will be all the proof your Agent Gibbs will need to know that you are indeed alive.”

“Oh right because those dates can’t just be changed by anyone.”

Continuing as if he hadn’t heard his captive he said, “He will want to confirm it, of course. He will want proof that they are in fact genuine and not altered in any way, so he will no doubt seek out your forensic scientist…ah what was her name? I don’t believe I recall it.”

“That’s probably because I never said it or told you if our forensic specialist was male or female.”

“Oh right. You are a most stubborn prisoner, are you not my dear. One of the reasons I like keeping you around.”

“You mean it’s not for my good looks and debonair charm?”

His captor chuckled as he continued, “You still have fire, spark, you are not yet completely broken, but one day…”

“Probably be dead before then since you so love to keep me chained from the ceiling.”

“Hmm yes. You’re soon due for a change. Your cell has been too empty for far too long.”

“You’re all heart.”

He flinched again as multiple flashes fired in rapid succession. He then said, “Hmmm should have you hold today’s newspaper so there is no room for doubt, but that would require I unchain your wrists and well I just don’t desire to do that yet. I happen to like you strung up before me. It’s so much easier to access all those vulnerable areas of your body that make you cry out in such delight.”

Tony balled his hands into fists, clamped down on his jaw and forced himself not to reply to the taunt as anger simmered throughout his body.

His captor offered him a knowing look before nodding his head and lowering the camera seemingly satisfied. Then as quickly as he had entered his captor turned and exited the room leaving him once again alone in silence.


	3. Revelations

_One Week Later…  
Washington DC – NCIS Headquarters_

As the mail courier delivered mail to the bullpen Gibbs accepted the manila envelope. He had been expecting a package from Baltimore PD so he quickly opened it, and pulled out the folder containing what he knew were the photos he had been expecting.

As he opened the folder and his eyes fell to the very first image he stared in shock. At first unsure of just what he was seeing before jumping up and racing after the mail courier. His sudden unexpected action caught McGee’s attention and he glanced at Ziva who shrugged her shoulders in response.

Within moments they heard shouting coming from the proximity of the stairwell before Leon Vance’s booming voice ordered Agent Gibbs to back down and explain just what in the hell was going on. He was soon storming back at a rapid pace Vance close on his heels. He approached his desk and scarfed up the manila folder he had left before extending it towards Vance.

Vance looked at him expectantly then at the manila folder now extended towards him. Gibbs’ eyes were sparking blue fire as he snapped, “I want to know who sent these.”

Now confused Vance responded, “Gibbs, I don’t…”

“Open it Leon.”

“I…”

“OPEN IT.”

Nodding Vance accepted the folder as Gibbs continued, “Was expecting case photos from Baltimore PD, NOT those,” while tapping on the folder for emphasis.

Leon held his Senior Agent’s gaze a moment longer before diverting it to the folder in his hands. Unsure of what the folder contained he opened it, his eyes settling on the first image contained within. He wanted to deny it, of course, but unfortunately knew _exactly_ what he was seeing. So they were finally showing their hand by sending irrefutable proof of what he had already long since suspected? Took them long enough. Bastards.

Hesitantly he continued to leaf back through the pile examining several more images before glancing to the date stamp at the bottom of each photo. Pinning Gibbs with a determined gaze he informed, “These are all time stamped with last week’s date.”

“What?” 

Snatching a photo off of the pile he tried to avert his gaze from who was pictured there and focused on the date emblazoned on the lower right hand corner before muttering, “Proof of life, bastard’s sending us proof of life!”

“We all assumed he just…”

“Well he obviously DIDN’T! And I want him back here YESTERDAY!”

“Now hold on, Gibbs, we don’t know if these are even real. They could be fakes created to garner just this kind of a reaction out of you.”

“Look at him Leon. He’s obviously lost weight and you can see bruises and cuts covering him… He’s out there somewhere and we need to bring him home!”

“I understand that, Agent Gibbs, but we need to go about this logically. Have someone analyze them, examine them. We need to know if they’re real or not.”

“McGee and Abby can do that.”

“No, no they can’t Gibbs and neither can you.”

“What?”

“You can’t handle this case.”

“The hell I can’t!”

“You’re way too close to this. All of you are. No, no we need to get these to the FBI and…”

“The FBI? Leon…!”

“Like it or not, Agent Gibbs, a missing Federal Agent is _their jurisdiction_. They have to be informed, and _you_ know that. Even if you want to argue that point an assault on a Federal Agent is automatically handed over to the FBI, and I’d say based on these photos we have pretty damned good probable cause to make a case _for_ assault on a Federal Agent, don’t you?”

Snatching the rest of the photos off the pile Gibbs continued to page through them halting as he came to the last one, placing the others back in the folder in Leon’s hand, he held it out and simply said, “Is this real enough for you, Leon?”

Focusing on the final image he noted the newspaper with last week’s date on it propped against his legs. Shaking his head he simply said, “Gibbs he could be…”

“Look at the DATE. It’s last week’s paper!”

“Yes but he could be dead for all we know. He’s…we can’t tell that from this particular image.”

Gibbs held up the second photo he had kept and held them both side by side before continuing, “They’re sequential.”

“You don’t know that Gibbs and I…”

“Look at his arms, Leon, the blood. By the last image it’s down passed his elbows. These were taken in order.”

“And could have been taken after death. We don’t…”

“He’s alive, Leon. They’ve obviously had him for a while, and they’ve been keeping him _alive_. Why would they suddenly… What would they gain from it? Hell, Leon… He’s alive and we gotta find him.”

“We’re doing nothing until these images are analyzed.”

“Then give them to McGee and…”

“Absolutely not. That is not negotiable!”

“Why?”

“I already told you why.”

“And while we stand here and argue time’s wasting.”

“I know but let’s do this by the books, get the FBI in on this.”

“Why?”

“Because we owe it to him! We owe it to Agent Dinozzo to do this _right_.”

At the mention of their Senior Field Agent both McGee and Ziva jerked their heads up. McGee jumped out of his seat and quickly approached the two reaching for one of the images. Vance was quicker as he snapped the folder shut. McGee was frustrated as he turned to Gibbs saying, “Boss…” before he trailed off as his eyes lowered and took in the photo in Gibbs hand.

“Tony…”

At the mention of the man’s name Ziva jumped up and Gibbs immediately drew the photos to himself so that McGee couldn’t see any more of it. The last thing he needed was a junior agent seeing his Senior Field Agent chained up in a room battered, bruised and unconscious. McGee reached for the photo again and Gibbs shook his head emphatically no.

“But boss that…was that Tony?”

“Yes McGee and no you can’t see it.”

“But…but why?”

“Because I don’t want you to.”

Leon stepped in then and there to persist in vocalizing his decision, “And that is another reason why these need to be given to the FBI and examined for authenticity.”

“Leon, I don’t want just anyone on this case.”

“I’ll request Agent Fornell if it will help.”

“It would. Thank you.”

“But Gibbs you can’t be harassing him. You’ll have to step back and allow him to do his job.”

“Understood.”

“Is it? You’ll jeopardize everything if you interfere in this.”

"Yes understood.”

“Good then I have a few phone calls I need to make.”

Handing the photos to Leon he watched as the man headed back up to his office. Within moments Agent Balboa and his team were climbing the stairs to MTAC. Gibbs assumed he was bringing them in on the case as well. 

Aware that McGee was still staring at him he merely said, “Back to work,” but there was no fire or command behind it. As McGee approached his desk and slowly lowered into it Gibbs said, “Tim, we’ll find him.”

“Sure boss, sure.”

Feeling guilty for his earlier comments McGee focused all his frustration onto the present case he had been researching before the discovery of those photos and tried not to think about all the things he had said and done in regards to one Anthony DiNozzo Junior over the last few months.


	4. Harsh Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * This is where the nasty scenes begin

_Abyei, North Sudan_

“Hmm it is time. Yes, time to return you to your cell.” Which simply meant back to solitary confinement. He hated solitary confinement with a passion. It was one of the hardest things to endure for him.

As the blindfold was drawn up again he felt himself tense. He hated that too. He wanted to resist, to fight, knew he should, but his body automatically responded to the stimuli. His eyes closed and within moments the blindfold was once again firmly secured. As his captor continued he again cursed himself for allowing him even that much control. His mind was already re-creating his pseudo-reality and he tried not to shudder as he realized how easy that was becoming, altered states of conscious to keep sanity in place. He’d never spent so much time in his head, but knew the risks were just too grave if he didn’t attempt to maintain some kind of grip on a world outside of his captivity.

The pat to his face brought him partially back and he could hear the words that chilled him, “You must visit with the doctor first.”

He did shudder then hearing Gibbs in his mind ordering him not to show weakness. Without realizing it he softly mumbled, “Yes Boss,” and felt his now fractured, splintered mask fall into place.

He screamed as he felt the tension in the chains around his wrists lax rapidly. The moment his arms were down he was swamped with a thousand pins and needles jabbing all at once demanding to be acknowledged as arms that had been secured above him for far too long decided that they were tired of the numbness. His pseudo-reality wavered violently as pain flooded his senses. Before he knew it he was being commanded to undress. When he didn’t immediately react to the command he felt the blow fall across his back driving him to his knees none too gently, his previously injured knee twinging in the process. Slowly and with much struggle he pushed himself to rise again wavering once on his feet. As he regained his focus he heard the voice of disappointment simply say, “You have not been eating again. We will have to determine how severe your punishment for that offense.”

He blocked the voice of the sleazy doctor out of his mind focusing on the first command. His fingers tentatively slipping beneath the waistband of his pants as he slowly pushed them down and stepped out of them. 

This too he had learned the hard way. Non-compliance to disrobe meant he would remain unclothed for an unset amount of time. He quickly realized he’d much rather remove his clothes for the doctor on occasion than to be left without them. Plus again non-compliance came with other severe counters.

Reaching for his shirt he heard the next order, “Hands.”

He offered them without resistance his stomach in knots as he tried not to think about what would be happening next. His arms shook in protest of the new position, muscles burning and achy. Soon they were freed so that he could continue to undress. Once he stood before the doctor naked he was ordered to stand at attention nearly laughing aloud at the crazy command.

The resulting answer was another brutal strike to his back that again drove him to his knees. The order to stand had him resisting the urge to snap back before he struggled to comply. Knowing before it happened that he had just earned another strike due to his slow compliance. This one came while he was still down and had him flying to the floor, grunting in response. 

Shaking he forced still quavering arms beneath him and pushed up onto his knees before squeezing his eyes tightly shut and rising yet again slower than last time. He hated this. Punishment for his body’s weakness. It was twisted and yet another tactic his captors liked to employ, another way to attempt to break his spirit, to break him fully.

As another crack resounded loud in his ears and he again found himself on his knees it was then he realized he must have missed another command. His head began to pound, ears ringing as he struggled to stand thinking it a bit insane…a doctor who first induced pain on his patient before examining his health status. 

“Crazy doctor.” 

Unaware until the words escaped his lips that he had said _anything_ he stiffened in preparation for another strike relaxing slightly as the only response was the doctor’s crude, “That’s enough for now.”

He heard steps retreat but not leave the room, so he was being given a momentary reprieve? Nice. The doctor addressed him again, “I ordered you to stand at attention.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Obey.”

Immediately he stood straighter, feet close together, arms at his sides fighting against his need to resist as he answered with another, “Yes, sir.”

He was expected to address the doctor so formally, to obey without question or resistance or suffer for defiance. He knew it was a tactic to strip him of his autonomy, but he also knew how to pick his battles and fighting the doctor was not a battle he wanted to lose. To do so meant he’d have to submit to yet _another_ gross violation of his body, and he was not willing to face that more than he was forced to.

He could hear the doctor pace, feel his close proximity as heat radiated from him in the otherwise cold room and felt unnerved. He struggled to remain in the here and now knowing he would sink deeper into his pseudo-reality once on that table, but right now he had to listen.

After circling around him several times like a lion corralling its prey the doctor seemed satisfied releasing a grunt before ordering, “To the table.”

“Yes, sir.”

Closing his eyes he silently counted his steps: four to the table, stop and turn. 

Navigation while blindfolded was another little trick he had picked up. Kept his mind sharp, made him feel like he was doing _something_ on his own. It was a game he’d play with himself, try to study movements, textures, sounds like a blind person must to survive; to live. He was getting better at distinguishing textures and moving about without bumping into things so that was a plus, but he still had a ways to go. Abby would be so proud.

Hearing the next command he slowly lowered to sit on the edge of the table he knew lie directly before him for he could feel the cold edge of metal gently pressing against his legs. As he settled he awaited further instruction and swallowed back a protest as he was simply ordered, “Back.”

He turned and lowered to lie back releasing the softest of hisses as his most recent bruises protested. He twitched as he shuffled drawing his legs onto the table as well. It was a cold metal table like the ones used in veterinary clinics. He had seen it once and supposed for cleaning purposes it was most efficient.

“Palms,” was his next order. Why the doctor also ordered he turn his hands palms up in preparation for being secured he didn’t know but again complied with minimal resistance. He had learned early on when he was told he’d be getting a doctor that this was a man one did not resist for _any_ reason.

As the leather wrist cuff was secured snuggly in place he saw Abby enter his pseudo-reality and began his journey into disassociation for time spent in this particular room meant enduring some of the most difficult abuse reaped upon him.

He grunted as a leather cuff was secured on his right ankle tighter than necessary and the doctor’s cruel words filled his head, “Antonio, I expect you to be present during my exam.”

The doctor always did that, tried to keep him in the here and now, and knew, had somehow learned to call him Antonio was the most effective way to do so. That particular usage of his name always reminded him of his father and always meant he was in trouble, so he always paid attention when addressed as such. 

He had been confused by their usage of his name early on. Most captors chose to call a captive anything but to demoralize them, make them feel more out of control and less human. These two had always addressed him by name as if they were already FAMILIAR with him, and it bothered the hell out of him. Perhaps that’s why they continued to do it even now.

The over-tightening of his left ankle strap reminded him that he had again drifted away. This bastard was good at diverting a captive from accessing subspace. He knew how the mind worked, knew it intimately enough to be able to disrupt a person’s attempts to disassociate. This bastard knew how to keep a person at least tenuously connected and grounded in true reality. He knew the mind’s escapes and defenses when under duress and he knew how to manipulate them. As a result he could always flee to his pseudo-world here but not remain in it steadily. Still it was something, meant he had some control, however little over himself. 

A pat to his face had him flinching and mentally cursing, for they both knew how quickly he’d snap back when that was applied. It gave him the sneaking suspicion that he had been studied like a piece of meat. He _and_ Gibbs. 

He always sensed that his captor had an axe to grind with one Leroy Jethro Gibbs and though his interrogation sessions were flooded with questions regarding NCIS, the United States and their supposed Mossad affiliations he still sensed the man had two goals. Perhaps he was a double agent? He worked for a country but also worked at gaining revenge on his boss? He wasn’t sure, just got a lot of mixed messages and…

The touch so intimate brought him spiraling back to the present as the doctor proceeded to stroke him. Swallowing hard he bit back his protest and tensed further as the now husky voice of the doctor spoke right beside his left ear, “Good. Now that I have your _full_ attention you will allow me to conduct my exam, and you will stay HERE.”

Another tender stroke had him turning his head away biting back the bile threatening to erupt from his stomach at the unwanted touch. The doctor continued, “Understood Antonio?”

When he didn’t immediately answer he was tightly squeezed and releasing a strangled cry he managed, “Understood, sir.”

“Good. Now back to business,” and that quickly, much to his relief, the hand was removed. 

He could hear him walk away, rummage in what he assumed was a box? Then heard the distinct snap of latex gloves as they were pulled on. The next sound to assault his ears had him nearly in a panic that he quickly dampened down and all but obliterated: the sound of metal dragging across a counter or desk, which usually belonged to either a scalpel, razor or a knife. None of those choices were very promising. He had been exposed to ALL of those vile instruments previously too and hated the feel of them, the feel of a sharp blade slicing, cutting perfect little strips out of his skin or carving into his vulnerable flesh. Surely the doctor wouldn’t…

Calming his nerves he thought about what he knew about the doctor, what the doctor knew about him and about human behavior. He knew eyes kept in darkness heightened other senses therefore he knew just how attuned to sound he presently was. He also knew one way to control someone was to toy with the psyche…so was he playing on natural instinct? Cute.

The voice was back warm breath bathing his left ear as the doctor chuckled and softly said, “Oh you’re so smart, Antonio, so smart,” a pat to his left shoulder had him startling briefly before settling as the doctor continued, “And so touch sensitive. I admit it has been a while since you have been to see me, so I will extend you the courtesy of easing you back into all of this. It will be so much fun. Are you with me, Antonio?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Stay with me.”

Argh he hated these damned games! 

He started drifting again when the voice was back asking another stupid question, “Do you remember my rules, Antonio?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We shall see.”

While expected he still startled slightly a second time as he felt the cold metal blade of what he was now fairly certain was a scalpel press into the skin of his inner thigh so close to the main artery that he forced himself to remain still. One accidental slice could make him bleed to death, and he wasn’t about to let that happen.

As if the doctor had read his mind he said, “Still not ready to die. You are not yet broken. Ah, he will be so pleased to hear that. Now let’s get onto business, shall we?”

To call this bastard a doctor was a sham because while he did examine and tend to injuries, give reports on his patient’s condition, he never followed that damned Hippocratic Oath, for he was as malicious as he was concerned. Sure he’d do his job, but he also got off on torture. He was damned good at it. Who better to torture than someone who knows anatomy as intimately as a doctor?

“Antonio.”

Ugh bastard! He hated this guy with a passion. Clenching his hands into fists he mentally cursed as the doctor chuckled and continued, “Yes, you remain HERE.”

He yanked his arms up against the restraints keeping his legs still for the blade still rested against his inner thigh. He hated this so damned much. 

“Ah relax and let me conduct my exam. He’ll be expecting a report, so you need to cooperate.”

Cooperate, ugh they _always_ wanted him to cooperate. Cooperate, surrender, yield, obey… They wanted ultimate control and he still refused to yield it because once he did he’d be lost so he refused to surrender all to the ones who rather enjoyed the fine art of torture.

“Now tell me, Antonio, tell me how to access your computer systems.”

Unlike his other captor this one was driven in a different way. His goal was to gain Intel in any way he could. He no doubt stood for a country whereas his other captor appeared to have two goals. He was certain, due to the questions and manner in which he was passed back and forth between the two, that he was most likely in a war zone country. One, no doubt, that presently saw the US as a threat. His captivity seemed two-fold: political and personal.

He often wondered how his main tormentor fit into the grand scheme of things. A man with no country but sworn allegiance to no doubt an enemy who was seeking his own form of revenge on the side. How he got involved was a different question entirely. Was his collision into his life planned or unplanned? How did one man fit into both worlds, and why did it often seem like the man had a personal vendetta with a particular person rather than a particular country?

He winced as the blade pierced his flesh presently scratching lightly down his inner thigh before being drawn onto the top of his leg and yanked.

He cried out feeling the skin gaping on his upper leg right above his knee. He knew if he could see it the wound was no doubt long and superficial but deep enough to be both messy and painful. 

He tensed as the voice spoke so close to his left ear, “That is your first warning. The next I assure you will be much deeper. Do you understand me?”

Swallowing hard he slowly nodded jumping as the doctor yelled, “ANSWER!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now tell me how to access your databases.”

“I don’t know.”

“Wrong answer!”

He cried out a second time as the sharp blade sliced above the first wound opening up a second slice on his leg. 

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

The blade was removed and pressed to his chest directly over his heart. His tormentor slowly dragged the tip down over his chest opening a thin lengthy scratch as he continued, “Oh you know all right. As Senior Field Agent of the MCRT in DC you’d have to know, so try AGAIN!”

“I don’t know.”

The blade dug deeper into his flesh continuing on its journey down across his stomach to halt at the top of his pubic bone. His breathing rate increased automatically in response.

“Do you know you were _given_ to us? They _sold_ your ass to protect their secrets, and you still defend them.”

He gritted his teeth and focused on calming his breathing before managing, “I don’t know anything, sir.”

“Then you are of no use to us.”

He hadn’t meant to but released a soft snort that had the doctor wanting to slice. Instead he changed tactics, “You are beautiful, Antonio. Has anyone ever told you that?”

Shit, here it comes, the damned sexual innuendo. He hated that too. Often wanted to resist always suffering for such resistance terribly. He was a bit surprised that the doctor was playing that card already though. Was he getting desperate? 

Without thought he verbalized that question, “Getting desperate?”

The slice, while expected still made him hiss and involuntarily arch upwards forcing the tip of the blade to not only carve into the thin skin covering his pelvic bone but to puncture it as well. When he became fully aware he swallowed hard and bit into his bottom lip to keep from protesting or offering further opposition. Forcing himself to remain completely still, he waited for the doctor to make his next move.


	5. The Search for Answers

_Washington DC_

Sitting in his car he looked across the street towards the building that housed Tony’s apartment. He hadn’t been back here in several months. His last return had ended badly with the discovery that his place was empty and vacant. The apartment no longer being rented by his former Senior Field Agent. He had assumed that it had meant that Tony had left on his own. The result was him being pissed and storming out of the apartment complex determined to move on with his life and forget the man he felt betrayed by.

Shaking his head now he rather wished he had pursued the issue a bit beyond the visual evidence. It might have made a difference between Tony vanishing off the face of the earth with no viable leads to even attempt a search or him being safe in his own home where he belonged. Anger had driven him away from investigating Tony’s disappearance beyond what he assumed, and due to that he had broken one of his own rules. The breaking of the rule cost him far too much, and he intended to draw on every possible resource he could find to locate the man and return him back home. He owed it to Tony to do his best.

Drawing in a shaky breath he slowly climbed out of his vehicle and approached the old apartment building. Unsure of where to even begin he entered and soon found himself standing before the former residence of his now missing agent. Perhaps, if he were lucky, he’d find _something_ to lead him to Tony before it was too late.

He lost track of how long he stood there gazing at the small gold numbers mounted on the door before him and began to trace them with his finger his mind caught up in memories of the man who used to live here. As the door next to him opened he jumped and turned to see an elderly woman he recognized who offered him a soft smile as she simply addressed, “Agent Gibbs, how are you?”

“Fine, Mrs. Markel.”

“And how is that lovely young man, Agent DiNozzo, doing?”

“Tony he’s…,” his voice trailed off and she reached out to gently grip his lower arm as she continued, “We so miss him around here. I do hope he is happy in his new home.”

“He… Wait, what?”

New home? What was she talking about? Shaking his head he spoke softly, “Mrs. Markel…”

“Told you to call me, Ginny. Now Agent Gibbs you tell that young man to come by and pay us a visit. We haven’t seen him in some time and would love to see how he’s doing. Such a nice young man that one.”

Gibbs smiled softly as he answered, “Yeah.”

Unsure of how to proceed he fell silent again before quietly admitting, “Tony’s missing, Mrs. Markel. We’ve been trying to locate him.”

“Oh I’m so sorry to hear that. Is he okay?”

“We haven’t been able to find anything.”

“Oh…”

The elderly woman seemed saddened by the news. Squeezing his arm again she asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not at this time.”

“Oh it’s so sad. You must find him, Agent Gibbs. Please?”

“I’m trying to, Mrs. Markel.”

“He’s lucky to have someone watching over him like you.”

Gibbs felt shame filter in as he became aware that he hadn’t been watching over Tony like he should have been. It was his fault Tony was now missing. He had been so certain Tony had just quit that he didn’t even bother to consider anything else might have happened. Now Tony was imprisoned somewhere probably being tortured daily for information and he had been partially responsible for it.

Mentally cursing himself he hesitantly turned to the elderly woman, licked his lips nervously then asked, “Mrs. Markel, do you happen to have Tony’s new address on hand?”

“Why yes, Agent Gibbs. He insisted I have it, even gave me his phone number. Told me if I ever needed him to call and if I couldn’t get ahold of him I was to call you directly. He used to check in with me weekly then just stopped. Now I understand why. I just figured he had finally found himself a nice girl to settle down with, so I never bothered to call.”

Gibbs felt his insides clench and knot, licking his lips a second time he asked, “Could you…give me his new address, Mrs. Markel?”

“Well I sure can, Agent Gibbs, but shouldn’t you already have it?”

“Uh…”

Waving a hand dismissively she smiled kindly and said, “Ah never you mind. Here let me write it down for you.”

She retrieved a notebook and address book from her apartment then flipped to the back of the address book before jotting down an address and handing him the slip of paper. She then quietly added, “You find him and bring him home, Agent Gibbs…and tell him to come visit.”

“I will, Mrs. Markel, and thank you, thank you so much for this.”

“Ah wasn’t anything.”

“I have to get back…”

“Oh I know keeping the streets safe from hooligans. It was so nice to see you again, Agent Gibbs. You find that boy and you bring him home.”

“Yes ma’me.”

With that he excused himself and exited Tony’s old residence his heart beating rapidly as the paper now clenched tightly in his hand felt like it was burning his skin. Tony’s address. Tony’s new address. He hadn’t even realized that Tony had even moved or that the place was within driving distance of DC. Surely that was a very good indicator that Tony hadn’t planned to walk out on the team after all? Surely.

Climbing back into his vehicle he eyed the address in his hands nervously and pulled out a map. Scanning it he found the road listed and decided to try to find the place. Perhaps there was something there, some indicator that Tony had every intention of remaining and that he had been forcefully taken, not voluntarily. Nodding his head he started his vehicle and pulled out onto the street determined to track down and find the apparent new residence of his Senior Field Agent.

**

_Abyei, North Sudan_

“Do you remember what happened the last time you spoke out of turn around me, Antonio?"

Swallowing hard and squeezing his eyes tightly shut he forced himself to remain completely still aware that the tip of the blade used to scratch open his skin was still pressed into his flesh. He tried not to react when the doctor yelled a simple, “ANSWER!” but did so unconsciously hissing as the tip seemed to burrow deeper in the skin above his pelvic bone. Slowly, and with great trepidation, he gently released his bottom lip and answered, “Yes, sir.”

Several moments seemed to drag out, stretching before he felt the blade being drawn away and the doctor standing as he said a cheerful, “Good. Then do me a big favor…”

He listened on edge as the doctor moved away, rummaging before the distinct sound of metal scraping against a counter could be heard again. Within seconds he was back and gently ordering, “Open your mouth for me, Antonio.”

_Oh hell no!_ He didn’t know what the doctor intended but he wasn’t about to comply. The doctor chuckled as if delighted by the non-compliance and continued, “Open it or I’ll force this in your mouth myself, and I must inform you the blade is _very_ sharp.”

_What?_

Fear instantly flooded his system as his mind threw him a vast array of scenarios, none of them pleasant. Unconsciously he licked his now too dry lips as he fought back the panic threatening to choke him. What the hell was the bastard planning? It sounded suspiciously like forcing a damned knife into his mouth and… He was insane!

As he tried desperately to calm himself he startled releasing a sharp gasp as he felt the application of a very sharp blade being pressed none too gently to the side of his neck directly over the jugular. He instantly stilled releasing a second haggard breath as the blade was moved slightly. He wanted to fight, to lash out and to curse but firmly pressed his lips together tensing even further as he felt the warm breath of his tormentor again bath the skin of his left ear. He sensed that his captor was now glowering furiously at him. Could feel his eyes burrowing into him and managed another shaky breath as the doctor spoke so softly that he had to practically strain to make out the words, “Now Antonio, you know what will happen if you dare to defy me in ANY way, so it’s your choice. You either do as I tell you or I’ll not only shove this into your pretty mouth I’ll use it for your cavity search as well. Are we clear?”

He shuddered violently at the threat certain the bastard was sick enough to do just _that_. Despite every instinct that told him to fight the bastard and not surrender he found himself quietly answering, “Yes, sir.”

“Then I suggest you OPEN YOUR MOUTH!”

He responded by releasing a soft unplanned whimper and yanking harshly up on his wrist and ankle restraints. He had to mentally force himself to comply unable to do so until he heard his boss’ voice fill his mind, _“DiNozzo, do as he says.”_

Opening his eyes he looked around aware that he had successfully disassociated into his pseudo-world where his boss was now sitting next to him telling him to obey. Swallowing hard he answered in his mind, _“Boss, I can’t.”_

_“You have to.”_

_“No, no, I…”_

_“You **have** to. If you’re gonna survive this you have no choice. Now do as he says.”_

_“But I…”_

_“Tony, don’t make it worse. I’ll be right here with you. I’m not going anywhere. Okay? You got me?”_

_“Yes, boss.”_

_“All right. Now do as he says.”_

_“But boss…”_

_“I know, Tony. I know.”_

Drawing in a calming breath he slowly and with great resistance opened his mouth. Unaware that small tremors were presently racing up and down the length of his body as he struggled to obey.

In the next instant he felt the blade leave his neck, the sharp tip being slowly drawn across his skin from his throat to his mouth where it rested lightly. His breath increased, this time coming out in little puffs of air as he tried desperately to obey the cruel order given. Gripping his hands tightly together he could feel the sharpness of his fingernails digging into the palms and knew he wouldn’t be able to obey the order for much longer.

As the voice came back he felt the tension in his body singing through every inch, racing through every nerve like a live wire, pulling and drawing him as taut as a bow string, “Now be a good boy and hold this blade between your teeth. If you don’t struggle it won’t cause damage. Your tongue’s going to want to explore. DON’T LET IT, and don’t drop it.”

Slowly the flat side of the blade was slipped, slid gently into his mouth lengthwise, pushed until it rested gently against the sides of his mouth. He was then ordered to bite down. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut he felt the panic surge full force as the taste of metal was distinctly noticeable in his mouth. Aware that if he moved or resisted in any way the knife would cause a hell of a lot of damage he forced himself to settle, forced his body to ease back down onto the table, and forced his breathing to slow down. He tried to mentally force his arms back down onto the table as well but couldn’t, instead he yanked against them making them so taut he could feel the leather digging into his wrists. Slowly and with great difficulty he obeyed the command biting down on the blade now resting sideways in his mouth. He felt lightheaded, his ears ringing so loudly that he almost missed what the doctor was saying. Knowing if he were caught not paying attention things would become so much worse he forced his focus directly on the voice blocking out everything else except the voice of his tormentor.

The doctor continued, “You should be grateful. I put it in dull side first. If I hadn’t… Well, if I hadn’t then that blade would now be cutting into the corners of your pretty mouth, instead of just resting against them. Now that tongue of yours, however, if it starts probing… Well, you’ll slice it right open, so I suggest you exert most of your energy on keeping it still.”

Tony breathed shakily through his nose, drawing in as much air as he could knowing if he didn’t he could pass right out. He struggled, fought to keep his tongue from exploring the invasion knowing without having to be told the dangers if he didn’t. It was damned difficult, and he found himself praying that the damned knife would be removed soon. Unconsciously he yanked harder on his wrist restraints his legs also drawing taut against them. As the cold harsh voice of his tormentor filled his mind again he released a guttural groan becoming aware of the sudden desperate need to spit the object out and the overwhelming urge to wrap his hands firmly about the bastard’s neck. Instead of following his instinct to release the damned blade he forced himself again to focus on the voice presently tormenting him, “Now how long do you think your punishment should last, Antonio? It needs to fit your crime and speaking out of turn? Well that, as you know, is a big no, no. So what are your thoughts? Should we make this punishment last an hour? Two hours? Perhaps three?”

Again he swallowed tightly feeling the lump now forged and lodged firmly in his throat making breathing a struggle. His mind kept racing, his tongue lightly pressing against the flat side of the blade, while he tried to keep his panic at bay. He tried dredging up an image of Abby or Gibbs. He tried to force his mind onto thoughts of those he left behind. He tried to force his mind to retreat into his pseudo-reality but the present threat was so high that he couldn’t. Instead he found himself mentally cursing and praying for the damned punishment to end. His punishment for speaking out of turn. These assholes always searched for reasons, excuses to punish and usually it was for such mediocre things. Again he knew why they did it: that damned control. Control your victim completely, rip out their autonomy, destroy their connections to the outside world and you have yourself a broken shell, a creature willing to do just about anything to please. He would not become another of those lost souls. He refused to surrender everything to the bastards whose only desire was to gain Intel from him through constant torture and mind games. Assholes, all of them.

A strong hand wrapping firmly around his neck drew him violently back and as pressure was added he froze hoping, praying that hand wouldn’t tighten further. As his tormentor spoke again he mentally cursed the bastard, “Tell me, Antonio, how long do you think you can clench that blade between your teeth? Should we test your stamina? Test your determination? What do you say?”

Silence filled the room practically suffocating in its intensity. The voice continued, soft, maunder, droning on and on and he just wanted it to stop. He twisted in his bindings as he fought to keep the blade still, practically choking when the man continued, “Your jaw getting sore yet? I imagine it is. How tightly are you clenching that blade? Let’s see, shall we?”

The doctor gently tugged causing him to both bite down harder and release another whimper that, had he been aware of, would have embarrassed the hell out of him. Then he heard the soft chuckle and clenched his fists tighter actually yanked violently against the right restraint as if to punch the glib bastard before forcing himself to calm as much as was possible in his present predicament, which sadly wasn’t much. Again silence fell between them and seemed to stretch into oblivion. His mind growing numb, his focus narrowing to that sharp object still gripped so tightly between his teeth. Then suddenly the doctor’s voice pierced the air softer this time as he felt the lightest of pressure being applied to either end of the blade. He braced himself, biting down even harder, his teeth aching fiercely from the pressure he was presently exerting, jaw throbbing as he strained to obey. The soft pressure remained consistent as the doctor spoke his next command, “Release the blade, Antonio, slowly so we don’t do more damage to that pretty mouth of yours.”

He didn’t react immediately and the doctor spoke again still coaxing, “Come on. Release the blade and open your mouth for me.”

With great caution he slowly relaxed his jaw aware that the doctor was still speaking, still urging him to open his mouth. Slowly he complied and felt the removal of the blade. As it was pulled free the tension left his body rapidly. Hearing the doctor’s footsteps retreat he relaxed further still hyper-vigilant but not so tense.

He heard every little sound, every little movement the doctor made and unconsciously released several coughs. He proceeded to lick his lips and slowly, cautiously work his jaw back and forth trying to ease the pain and tension still very much present. As he did so he winced feeling a brand new slice open up on his bottom lip reminding him that he hadn’t had a thing to drink since… In a rather long time.

He could hear water running and wanted to beg for a sip but quickly slammed his mouth shut refusing to release the request knowing to do so would most likely come with dire consequences. Instead he continued to listen hearing the doctor again approach him before pausing beside him to gently order, “Open your mouth, Antonio.”

Unaware of it he immediately shook his head. The doctor persisted as he pressed something cool and hard against his lips. Flinching Tony tried to pull away feeling the doctor’s other hand settle at the back of his head palming it as he repeated the command, “Open your mouth.”

Slowly, and with great trepidation, he complied shocked when he felt cool liquid flowing into his mouth. Without intending, he automatically began to drink and swallow. As he did so he could hear his internal alarms going off at the possibility the water could be drugged, as the thought solidified in his mind he immediately tried to resist and pull away. The doctor quietly spoke as if he were a child in need of calming, “Relax, Antonio, it’s not drugged. It’s only water and you need to drink it.”

Again he tried to resist and the doctor snapped, “Stop fighting me or we’ll go back to forcing this into your system.”

Unconsciously he shuddered as he recalled a time when they _did_ force both liquids and food into him. He refused to eat or drink anything they gave, knowing the risks should he accept such things from them. He also knew it was one of the last forms of control he had, to refuse to eat was empowering, for it meant they didn’t have full control over him. They left it go for a time before resorting to less than orthodox ways of forcing both into him. He soon accepted both to avoid their barbaric methods of forcing his compliance. Once that had happened he knew he had lost a battle but soon found other battles, other ways of resisting the bastards who held him prisoner. He knew the risks one faced when held in lengthy captivity, knew how to interrogate and break someone. Hell, he was a federal agent. It was part of his damned job to get confessions out of criminals and he knew the dangers facing him so he fought in any way he could. He fought with all he had. Some battles he just couldn’t win, while others he fought damned hard to.

As the glass was removed from his lips he became aware that he had again became lost in his head and was surprised his captor didn’t forcefully pull him back. The bastard confused him, and often would keep him off balance. He hated that too for he knew the dangers of falling for that as well. 

He listened as the doctor again retreated and could hear the soft clink as he sat the glass down before once again returning to his side. He then proceeded to pace back and forth saying nothing, so he waited. Soon the doctor was halting and hovering. Unsure of what was going on he was caught off guard as what felt like a sharp fingernail was suddenly unexpectedly drawn across the scratch on his stomach. His instant reaction was to hiss and arch in response. Mentally cursing he heard the doctor speak again, “I think we shall call it a day, Antonio, and permit you some rest. You have had a rather eventful afternoon.”

He didn’t speak or answer certain that the doctor wasn’t expecting him to. Instead he waited surprised when he continued, “Yes we shall permit you some rest and pick this up again this afternoon.”

_This afternoon?_ He had already stated it was afternoon, which meant he was trying to scramble his days again. He had already lost track of when it was day and night ages ago. He had no idea of just how long he’s been here in this place, as their prisoner. It seemed like years to him, but he was certain it hasn’t been quite that long. Yet he had no present concept of time. It was another control tactic, strip a person of their ability to keep track of time and hopelessness would eventually set in as days no longer seemed like days but weeks, weeks seemed liked months and months seemed like years. Still, despite all the tampering they did to try to keep him unaware of the progression of time, he made attempts to maintain as much control over it as he could. The last week…or had it been longer… Was dangerous in that his captors had maintained a relatively repetitive schedule, one that could aid in keeping track of some form of time lapse and one that the doctor was now actively trying to rip apart. Now that…THAT was dangerous.

“Antonio.”

He snapped back frowning and tensing as the doctor continued, “You WILL sleep now, and I shall be back shortly.”

He heard him leave and then a second pair of feet proceeded the first. As the door clicked shut he mentally cursed. He’d be damned if he would sleep because he was ordered to do so. Bastards!

He already knew the doctor would no doubt be back shortly, if for no other reason than to again screw with his internal clock. Well that he couldn’t control but he damned well could choose to refuse to sleep, now couldn’t he?

Decision made he allowed himself to relax and focus on creating his mental images of those closest to his heart. Within seconds he could see Jimmy and Abby in his mind’s eye and smiled as he successfully found himself back in his pseudo-world listening to Ducky speak of one of his many adventures as a young lad. They could maintain complete control over his body, force him to eat and drink, force him to comply with their demands but they would never, EVER, take away his connection to the world outside of his imprisonment for he would fight to the death to maintain it, he’d fight with every damned thing he had.


	6. Secrets and Leads

_White Plains, MD_

Slowly he exited his vehicle and stared at the place listed on the scrap of paper from Mrs. Markel. It was a nice house, not too big, not too small with a big yard in the back. The closest neighbor was over the next hill and not visible from here. The place seemed quiet, calm and comfortable. Had Tony really purchased this place, and if he had why hadn’t he told anyone about it?

Shaking his head in confusion he decided to approach, climbing the porch stairs to the front door he almost expected a stranger to come barreling out and ordering him off of their property. Instead the door remained closed, the house and yard quiet. Hesitating a moment he raised his fist and knocked. When there was no answer he tried again listening for movement on the other side of the door. When there was none he pulled out his lock pick set and began to pick the lock aware that it was breaking and entering but more concerned about finding answers then bending a few laws.

Once the lock gave under his mastery he slowly turned the door knob and pushed the door open. Unsure of what would meet him on the other side of the door he stood peering cautiously inside for a few moments before pushing it completely open and entering. 

Once inside he scanned the interior before beginning to walk around. As he did so he started to recognize little things scattered about here and there: Tony’s jacket laying on the bench by the door, a pair of his shoes sitting on the rug, one of his magazines sitting on the counter… Progressing further inside he entered the living room and saw Tony’s movie collection gracing one whole wall, the wall across from it was lined with books. In the center of the living room was a fireplace and on the mantel…

He approached without hesitation his eyes scanning the pictures displayed that more than confirmed this was indeed Tony’s place…not even a hour’s drive from DC. Tony hadn’t left. He wouldn’t have if he had just recently bought the place.

He scanned the pictures on the mantel much slower this time: one of Tony and Cait, a team photo, one of Tony with his dad fishing, one of Tony with his mother…a couple of Abby and a few of Tony and him. On instinct he approached the closet to his left opening the door he glanced on the top shelf his hand hovering. He then reached for the top shelf expecting to find a box there and soon was drawing it down and into his hands. Carefully he sat the locked metal box down and began to pick the lock. As it popped he lifted the lid his eyes landing on exactly what he was expecting to see: Tony’s issued weapon. It was secured like he always did every time he returned home from work, but where was his backup?

Shaking his head he startled as he heard the front door suddenly open. Quickly he put the gun box down and pulled his own weapon before charging out and identifying himself as NCIS. Instantly he froze lowering his gun slightly as he was greeted with a pointed question, “Agent Gibbs, what are you doing here?”

“ _Palmer?_ What are _you_ doing here, and how did you…?”

“Because I helped him to find this place, and…I have a key.”

He held it up as proof before continuing, “Tony gave it to me right after he bought the place, said I was welcome to use it anytime, and I know for a fact that he never gave you one.”

“You know? How could you…?”

“Because I’m the only one who knows he bought a new place. Well me and Director Vance, of course.”

“Vance?”

“Tony had the address changed in his personnel file, asked it not be given out.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“No. We’ve been searching for him. No leads.”

“We?”

“Balboa’s team, the Director, me…”

“Balboa’s team?”

“Director wanted to keep it hush, hush certain it could be an inside job. He just…vanished. No trace, nothing. He’s not dead, Agent Gibbs. He’s missing. He’s been missing for several months now.”

“So those photos were real?”

“Oh yeah. They’re real. He’s still alive. He’s out there somewhere and we’re going to find him.”

“Why are you here?”

“Been keeping an eye on the place since…”

“Any evidence of…”

“Not much I’m afraid. Surveillance was disabled. We suspect it happened shortly after he came home.”

“Why?”

Nodding in the direction of the closet Palmer continued, “His gun was already secured for the night. His badge was in the breast pocket of the jacket on the bench…”

Gibbs quickly rushed to the jacket. Palmer said, “It’s not there now.”

“Then where is it?”

“I…I have it. When I get discouraged I, it, looking at it, holding it helps, you know, and no I won’t give it to you. Director Vance knows I’m keeping it safe.”

“So one of my team goes missing and no one bothers to tell me?”

A new voice answered, “My decision, Agent Gibbs.”

“Leon?”

“The team has been strained for years, Agent Gibbs. The treatment of your SFA by his subordinates is intolerable. They’ve been under investigation by IA for several months.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to be sure that they’re not involved.”

“Involved? In Tony’s disappearance?”

“Yes.”

“They wouldn’t…”

“They’re treatment of him says otherwise. The moment Palmer reported him missing I placed Agent McGee and you under investigation.”

“Not Ziva?”

“Ziva and Miss Scuito have been under investigation much longer.”

“Abby? You think _Abby_ had something to do with this?”

“She can cover all trace evidence. She’s a suspect as well as every member of your team, Agent Gibbs.”

“Abby would never hurt Tony.”

“You don’t know that, Agent Gibbs.”

“Come on, Leon. You don’t think _my people_ would have anything to do with this.”

“People have killed for less.”

“You’re just grasping at straws.”

“Am I? Agent DiNozzo approached me several months before his disappearance with concerns regarding his…team.”

“What concerns?”

“Enough to warrant an investigation. We start making progress and suddenly the one who voiced concerns goes missing from his home, a place very few know of by the way, and disappears. There is no trace evidence, no way to track him. He just goes missing.”

“You thought he walked out?”

“No. No. See that was all for show. Agent DiNozzo didn’t walk out. He never even submitted a formal resignation. He had no intentions of leaving the agency.”

“Then why say he quit?”

“Figured if people believed he left, that he was gone, then tongues would loosen, people would start making mistakes…”

“And have they?”

“You crawled out of the woodwork.”

“Because of those pictures, Leon. Did you plant those?”

“No, no. They’re legit, matches with what we suspect.”

“Which is?”

“Well, I’m not at liberty to discuss that with you, Agent Gibbs.”

“My team, Leon.”

“Which puts you too close to this.”

“Does Tobias know…or rather I should say _did_ he know?”

“Need to know, and only a select few _need to know_.”

“If he’s a missing Federal Agent…”

“I’m sure you can figure out the rest, especially now that we have proof of assault on a Federal Agent as well.”

“And no one told me.”

“Need to know means ‘need to know’, Agent Gibbs and this is so far above your head.”

“Tell me. What do you think happened Leon?”

“I think DiNozzo was onto something. I think he found something out, and I think he got too close. Beyond that I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Why?”

“Because beyond that we’re entering dangerous territory, Agent Gibbs.”

“What do you mean by _dangerous_ , Leon?”

“I mean conspiracies, cover ups, scams Agent Gibbs, and the players are just starting to reveal themselves.”

“And my agent just somehow ended up in the middle of it all… Where is he, Leon?”

“I wish I knew.”

“You have to suspect he’s somewhere.”

“I’ve had feelers out ever since he turned up missing. The evidence has been examined and re-examined multiple times. He’s just simply gone. It’s as if he disappeared, vanished without a trace.”

“No one vanishes without a trace.”

“No you’re right about that.”

“So he’s somewhere. You have to suspect he’s somewhere. Where, Leon?”

Vance sighed in frustration debating about just how much to tell Gibbs. The investigation into his senior agent only turned up that he had bent rules and covered up several crimes. Gibbs would have to face consequences for those actions eventually but as of right now he wasn’t involved in DiNozzo’s abduction. There was no evidence pointing to him as being involved just of a member of his team being involved. Shaking his head he simply answered, “From a further examination of those photos it was determined that he’s been tortured.”

“Could have told you that.”

“We needed to examine the evidence. The images have all been blown up and upon closer inspection there are both older and newer injuries on him in various stages of healing, even some scarring is present. It all indicates he’s been there for some time. If I were to hazard a guess once taken from here he was most likely smuggled out of the country and taken to a rival country. As of right now it’s unclear as to whether he was bartered, traded or sold to the enemy.”

“Whoa what?”

“Gibbs there’s more going on here then you realize and Agent DiNozzo is right in the center of it all. He didn’t end up there on his own. Someone had to be tipped off. Hell, he’s only lived in this house for two months before he was taken from here. No one, except Palmer and I, even knew that he had purchased this house. Someone was doing research on him. Someone who knew what they were doing. Someone who had nothing to lose. They no doubt studied him, the team dynamics, his comings and goings then set a plan in motion. I’m certain that someone tipped off his abductors the day he disappeared.”

“You think he’s been there the whole time?”

Vance inhaled sharply before managing a simple, “Yes.”

“That’s a long time.”

“Yes and we need to get him back. If they haven’t broke him yet they’re only going to get worse, more barbaric.”

Gibbs tensed as he contemplated, “You don’t think he broke.”

“No I don’t, and I don’t believe you do either.”

“No. No, he’s too damned loyal for his own good.”

“Yet you believed that he chose to walk off the job?”

“I was angry. I made a mistake. I made _a lot_ of mistakes Leon, but I’ve always known that Tony’s loyal to me and that kind of loyalty…it just doesn’t break. No, he hasn’t told them a damned thing. I’m sure of it.”

“Agreed but he’s been with them a very long time. We need to find him before it’s too late, before he’s lost to us forever.”

“I take it you have a plan?”

“Been one in place since the day he disappeared…”

“Care to share?”

“I already told you I can’t. Not at this time.”

“Leon…”

“I need you to work with me on this, Agent Gibbs. The price if you don’t is one that neither of us wants to pay.”

 

***

_Abyei, North Sudan_

Awareness slowly crept back in much to his dissatisfaction. Ducky was getting ready to tell him another story but an awkward sound drew him to full alertness again. Swallowing hard he tried to remember just where he was, and why his back literally _ached_. Upon feeling the cold metal table beneath his back he remembered: exam room…and unfortunately his exam wasn’t yet complete. 

Forcing himself to remain calm he focused on listening. He could hear the sounds of feet as they patted in his direction announcing the arrival of, no doubt, the doctor followed quickly by another person who was, most likely, the one who had been beating the shit out of him earlier. He wanted to panic but forced himself to remain still, quiet trying not to think about the fact that he was secured in a damned vulnerable position, naked, atop an exam table, exposed to all. Squeezing his eyes shut he battled with his mind trying to put an end to the multiple scenarios presently playing out in live techno-color of just what could possibly occur next. Unable to blunt his panic he desperately attempted to disassociate, to return to his pseudo world and block out what was coming only to rear violently up as a gloved hand slid beneath him and a finger gently probed. _Oh hell no!_

He instantly went on the defensive yanking violently against his binds in an attempt to kick, scratch and punch the bastard attempting to molest him. When he felt another hand suddenly press over his mouth he reacted instantly and bit down HARD. The resulting scream of pain and the sudden removal of both offending hands was worth the resistance, but he knew he’d pay for lashing out. Hearing his visitor moving he tried desperately not to cringe or draw away from him his breath hitching as the bastard _laughed_.

Anger surged through him in waves as he struggled valiantly not to snap and snarl at the prick. Within moments a hand was pressed to his exposed throat. He automatically reacted preparing to snap at the bastard once again when he felt fingers latch on, wrap around and squeeze. Instantly his fight against his tormentor became a fight to breathe as the hand only squeezed tighter the pressure on his throat building as his air was slowly choked off. He tried to fight, to kick and punch, to claw at the hand now squeezing the life out of him but to no avail and soon his vision whited out and he felt himself falling, spinning out of control before suddenly the hand released, and he was left desperately gasping and inhaling trying to draw in as much air as his tortured lungs could handle. Soon he lapsed into a bitter cough that did nothing but aggravate his already burning throat. It was several long, endless moments before he seemed to regain control of his breathing feeling the new raw achy soreness now present in his throat. As he calmed further he felt warm breath bathe his left ear as his tormentor gently quietly said, “Now you will not resist me again or next time I won’t be as inclined to relax that hold. Do you understand me?”

Slipping his tongue out to brush across dry lips he swallowed hard nearly wincing as the saliva taunted the now raw irritated lining of his esophagus. Feeling the breath against his ear as a persistent, “Antonio,” was spoken had him managing, “Yes…yes sir.”

“Good.”

He heard the doctor proceed to stand up certain he was approaching the sink. Soon water clicked on and a softly snarled, “Savage drew blood…” filled the room.

Tony opened his mouth to snap back and quickly clamped it shut again as he recalled the last time he spoke without permission. As the bastard began to chuckle he mentally cursed him and squeezed his fists tightly uncaring that his nails buried themselves even deeper into the previous marks he’d placed there earlier or was it yesterday, two days ago…ah who the hell knew or cared any more, as his nails sunk into the previous marks he could feel sudden warmth on each palm. He was drawing blood. Shit!

His captor shut the water off then approached again lowering beside him as he simply said, “Very good, Antonio, you’ve just shown some remarkable restraint.”

He squeezed his hands tighter releasing a wince between firmly clenched teeth as the pain increased in both palms. His captor then softened his voice gently picking up his bound left wrist and turning it as he continued, “Shouldn’t hurt yourself like that you know.”

He yanked his arm free snapping, _Fuck you!_ Only to tense further, squeezing his eyes shut, unsure if he had just spoken those two words aloud and aware of what would happen if he had. After hearing and receiving no form of immediate retaliation he was certain that insult remained internal.

“Now Antonio, it’s time to continue your examination. For that I will need you to turn onto your belly. Think you can manage that without lashing out or shall I tether you like a beast and make you roll over like a good dog?”

The anger that was ebbing in him surged, flying violently to the surface once more as the insult pissed him off. _What a fucking bastard!_

“What will it be? Willingly or with my assistance? Answer.”

“Yes sir.”

“Yes sir what?”

_Fuck, fuck, FUCK!_

Swallowing back his rage he managed to answer bitingly, “Willingly, sir.”

“Ah now that’s a good boy.”

_If this fucker made one more crack about…!_

_“DINOZZO!”_

He stilled, startled by the sudden voice invading his mind that sounded a hell of a lot like one Leroy Jethro Gibbs, he hesitated then slowly relaxed managing another internal “thanks boss” that had him focusing once again on how not to piss off the highly trained torturer to his left. Bastard could slice and dice him a hundred times and still not kill him, damned near had on multiple occasions. Drawing in another calming breath he forced his body to relax knowing that until he was able to do so the doctor would not release him.

It was mere moments before he felt the left wrist restraint being unlocked and the order to place his left arm across his chest was given. He hated this too. The bastard was good at maintaining control in damned near any situation and he knew even before he heard him approach his right side that his left wrist was about to be secured almost as quickly as it had been released. Feeling the right wrist cuff drop off, he winced as the doctor immediately seized his left allowing him little chance of resistance as he quickly secured it in place. Once he had his left wrist sufficiently tethered he ordered, “Roll over.”

“Kind of hard when my ankles are still secured, sir.”

“Yes well it would be fun to watch you try.”

_Argh this guy was such an asshole!_

“You know there’s really no need for this…sir I already said I’d cooperate.”

“Yes well the bleeding teeth marks on my hand say you’re feeling a bit mutinous today, Antonio, so forgive me for being a might bit cautious.”

_He drew blood? Way to go, Tony!_

Within moments his ankles were likewise released and he slowly, with great trepidation, turned onto his stomach again squeezing his eyes tightly closed, swallowing hard as he had to strain not to lash out. This position made him feel even more vulnerable than being secured on his back for he knew, had experienced, just how _creative_ his captor could get with the occasional cavity searches he insisted on giving. It was embarrassing as hell and often led to much more than a simple exam and he knew the main reason it was done was to humiliate him, make him more controllable, more vulnerable to their _persuasive tactics_. They wanted him to talk, to spill secrets that would not only destroy him but NCIS and his country. They wanted him to reveal things he’d die to protect, therefore it was a losing battle for them. He’d already vowed that he’d not say a thing, no matter what they put him through. He’d sooner die. 

People often underestimated him, thought he was shallow, all surface. They never bothered to look deeper, to _delve_ deeper. They never realized that no matter what happened to him he would die for each and every one of them in a heartbeat. It was his job to protect his team, to protect his country and to protect NCIS and he’d die before he would ever give these bastards the means to destroy those things. No matter what they did to him to garner his cooperation, and having worked in three police departments and NCIS for over ten years he damned well knew the horrible things one human could bestow upon another, he would _never_ surrender. He knew that this probably wouldn’t end well for him and the chances of him being located were slim to none. He’d probably die here and if that meant keeping what he knew bottled up nice and tightly, if that meant taking it all to the grave with him, then so be it for the alternative was far graver than his own death and the one thing that often drove him was his desire and need _to protect and to defend_ those unable or incapable of defending themselves. He became a cop to make a difference, to help people and he’d die for that exact same reason. If that’s where this was leading then he’d have to accept it, but he still wasn’t ready to surrender, to simply give up. He still wanted to live and was determined to remain alive for as long as he damned well could.

**

_White Plains, MD – Tony’s House_

Gibbs could only stare intently at the Director still struggling to accept or even consider that someone handed his agent over to the enemy. Who would do such a thing? Who…, “Who would have anything to gain by handing him over?”

“You’d be surprised, Agent Gibbs,” came Palmer’s sad response. 

No, no he couldn’t accept this. He just couldn’t. Turning back to Vance he continued, “You can’t seriously think that one of our people would…”

“One of _your_ people has already been implicated in his disappearance. We’re still gathering more solid proof before the arrest is made, but it’s looking more and more like this was an inside job. He was handed to the enemy. Someone provided the necessary Intel to find him, grab him and capture him. It’s been over four months and we haven’t a clue where to even begin searching that tells me, Agent Gibbs, that someone is concealing his location. Someone is aiding the enemy in holding one of our own.”

“And that someone no doubt knows _exactly_ where Tony is,” continued Palmer.

“Or at least where he was.”

Palmer turned to Vance asking in concern and worry, “You don’t think he’s been moved, do you?”

“No way of knowing. They sent photos. If they fear we’ll be able to track him using them then yes they will move him.”

“And we may never find him again.”

“Time is of the essence. We need to move and move quickly on this or we could lose him permanently.”

_Oh hell no!_ Was Gibbs only response. Gritting his teeth he drew in a shaky breath then calmly asked, “What do you need from me, Leon?”

“Right now? You to stay out of Fornell’s way, keep quiet about what you were just told and to not interfere in this investigation. I needn’t remind you that up until now our lead suspect is unaware that they are even a suspect. If you start snooping or acting out of character you could tip them off and we could lose our one chance at finding DiNozzo.”

“You going to tell me who the lead suspect is, Leon?”

“Absolutely not. The last thing we need is for you to run interference because you can’t accept what we suspect. You mess this up you’ll not only permanently cripple this investigation you’ll cause us to lose all trace, all attempts to get DiNozzo back. You can’t interfere and you can’t change your behaviors. We don’t need this situation to become any less stable than it already is. Do you understand me, Gibbs?”

“Yes.”

“Good because if you screw this up we’ll lose him, and it will be YOUR FAULT.”

Gibbs subconsciously shuddered reacting to those words and knowing that Leon was unfortunately right. They had a suspect and it was someone on his team so that meant it was someone he had trusted to have not only his back but Tony’s and the bastard stabbed Tony in the back. Whoever the bastard was would pay and he’d have to accept that he was wrong about someone. Shaking his head he quietly asked, “So what’s next?”

“Next? We keep digging, and you? You just keep right on doing what you’ve been doing.”

“I’m not sure I…”

“You mess this up and we lose our one, and probably only chance, at getting DiNozzo back. If you care anything for that man you’ll stand down.”

“Yes sir.”

Vance nodded certain that Gibbs cared enough to rein himself in. He had been uncertain how Gibbs had felt about his 2IC since his treatment of him before he went missing was anything but stellar. The bastard had been anything but supportive and why DiNozzo remained with him was still a mystery. He’d be damned if he’d ignore the things he and several others had witnessed and complained about when they got him back. If he had to put DiNozzo on another team to keep him he’d do it in a heartbeat. Hell, he’d do just about anything Anthony DiNozzo asked of him if it meant keeping him at NCIS. There would be no more turning a blind eye to things. There would be changes and those who couldn’t deal with them, well, they’d be politely asked to find the door. 

Gibbs watched him and after several moments said, “There’s more, isn’t there Leon?”

“What do you mean, Agent Gibbs?”

“There’s more and it involves me. What is it Leon?”

Sighing he cursed Gibbs ability to determine if someone was holding back. While it benefited them during interrogations it was a pain in the ass when it interfered in situations like this. He hoped that Gibbs would back off but the look in his eyes clearly said ‘Hell no’ so sighing he continued, “You.”

“What?”

“They sent photos of DiNozzo to you.”

“Yeah so?”

“So? Come on, Gibbs, think. If their primary goal is to hold him as a political prisoner and interrogate him for Intel why would they even want us to know he was still alive? Wouldn’t the smarter decision be to keep hidden the fact that he was?”

“I don’t…”

“Come on, you’re not that stupid, Agent Gibbs.”

Gibbs glowered at him and Leon continued, “If I managed to get my hands on a US citizen that was also an NCIS agent _and_ the Senior Field Agent of the Major Crimes Response Team out of Washington DC my goal would not include letting those he worked with prior know that he was still alive. I sure as hell wouldn’t have sent pictures to the LEAD AGENT of said team, unless…”

Gibbs cursed as he continued, “Unless the goal was two-fold.”

Palmer interrupted then, “Gain Intel _and_ gain your attention.”

“Despite the tensions among you and your SFA any idiot who spent any amount of time observing you would know that the two best ways to get revenge on you would be through hurting, killing or abducting…”

Palmer spoke again, “Abby or Tony.”

“Exactly, so who would you have pissed off enough in a foreign country that would want to get revenge on you? Would be willing to not only pursue the goals of gaining Intel for his country but would run the risk of also getting sweet revenge on one Leroy Jethro Gibbs through the capture and subsequent torture of his SFA?”

“Lots of people, Leon.”

“Exactly.”

“So should I compile a list of all the…?”

“No. You’re to act like you know nothing remember?”

“Then how…”

“We’ll need a list, but it will have to be kept under the radar, which means it can’t be a search that’s traceable on your own computer.”

“Why not?”

“Because our lead suspect no doubt keeps tabs on your computer and everyone else on your team. Seeing that you’re suddenly compiling a list of possible enemies in foreign countries is a dead giveaway that you know something. The risk is too great. If they were to find out they’d no doubt send an alert to DiNozzo’s captors who would then quickly remove him from where ever the hell he’s being held.”

“So what other choice do we have?”

“You can use mine.”

“Wouldn’t they also be keeping tabs on your computer, Director?”

“I wrote him off remember? So doubtful.”

“It’s risky.”

“Got a better idea?”

“Old fashioned paper trail…”


	7. Unraveled

_Abyei, North Sudan_

He could sense the doctor’s eyes on him, no doubt filled with lust or some other form of sick demented pleasure. The doctor always made him feel queasy and uncomfortable for he knew that far more went through that twisted mind then simply inducing pain. No this man liked to also rip and tear at a person’s heart and soul. He walked a fine line of cruelty and platitudes, acting on one hand as if he were so concerned while on the other thinking of ways to permanently etch his presence on his chosen victim. He had no doubt the bastard also liked to conduct inhumane experiments and prayed that he’d never have to endure those, while certain that one day he would. 

The doctor was…lewd, for lack of a better description, for no matter how often he was forced to endure a thorough “exam”, as it was coined, he always felt like he was being treated as a slab of meat being checked for quality. It was extremely unsettling, especially when more than once the exam went far beyond a “simple check-up” and into a brutally gross violation of his body. 

“When was the last time I sampled you, Antonio?”

The doctor’s words cut through his thoughts like a razor digging viciously into him. The question making his stomach twist and bile threaten to rise up as his mind sent him back to the last time the doctor had _sampled_ him. Unconsciously he squeezed his fists even tighter no longer caring that the small amount of blood running from the fresh puncture wounds was now increasing. He could feel the strain in each arm and wrist, the throbbing ache that holding muscles extremely tense was reaping upon his body, as his mind tumbled back to the last time he was crudely violated by the monster now with him. 

Slamming a door violently on those memories before they had the power to take over he started to nibble on his bottom lip determined not to offer any kind of response. He jumped and gently bit into it when he felt an unwanted hand settle onto the middle of his back fingers beginning to stroke across his skin before one delved cruelly into an open healing lash forcing a sharp wince to escape as he attempted to draw away from the newest source of pain.

He could only release another biting wince as the finger proceeded to push firmer, deeper into the open injury. His captor continuing to speak just as softly as before, “I see you still have several unhealed wounds across your back. This one I know was from your earlier beating but some of these others… Tell me, Antonio, which do you enjoy more: the cane or the whip?”

Gritting his teeth he bit back the nasty retort he wanted to release pushing his forehead harder against the metal table as the doctor continued to not only poke at the open injury but draw his fingernail back and forth across it. Within mere moments he could feel warm blood welling up before tumbling lazily over the abrade skin to roll down over his side. Son of a bitch that fucking hurt!

As if that wasn’t enough the doctor proceeded to then pick at the healing skin as he continued, “Well which do you prefer?”

“Neither, you sick bastard!”

He wasn’t quick enough to silence the retort and could only release a shuddering cry of pain as the finger deliberately dug and yanked reopening the healing wound further. 

Biting into his bottom lip to prevent any further vocalizations he shuddered as the blood coated finger began to dig at _another_ healing wound. Shit! 

The doctor suddenly stopped and gently patted his back saying, “Now Antonio you know what you were told about that pretty mouth of yours. How many times do we have to remind you that you don’t answer unless we tell you to? Hmm…did my last punishment not teach you anything?”

Mentally cursing he turned his head away from the doctor swallowing hard and waiting for the inevitable disciplinary action his captor claimed needed dispensed or, in other words, the next session of torture his captor just found an excuse to begin.

Listening closely to the noises around him he heard the doctor suddenly stand up and approach what he again assumed was the sink. The doctor then begin to shuffle around as if digging through cabinets before settling on something and drawing it out. Returning to the side of his “bed” and settling once more. 

He waited in the tense silence for the doctor to make a move or speak, hell to do _anything_ , suddenly feeling the pressure of moist lips and warm breath against his ear as he was quietly asked, “Do you know that in order for a wound to heal it needs to be kept clean, dry and bandaged? Tell me, Antonio, how much medical training do they give NCIS agents? Are you required to learn first aid and CPR or just the basics? I assume they make you take the entire course I mean how else could you help a fellow agent who’s been shot or injured in the line of duty if you weren’t given the proper training?”

He remained silent and still his mind roaming trying to make some kind of sense out of the unexpected line of questioning. These weren’t interrogation questions they sounded more like curiosity. The doctor was trying to get him to no doubt drop his guard some before he proceeded with his torture. Swallowing hard he waited on edge for him to continue his hearing on high alert as he tried to listen for any change in breathing and speech or any movement subtle or otherwise. Hearing something being ripped open he tensed trying to make sense of the sound relaxing only slightly when the doctor moved away from him continuing, “Infection can occur if injuries aren’t properly tended…”

What the hell was the doctor intending? Where were these stupid comments leading? The further knotting in his stomach told him it was nowhere good. The doctor was leading into his next session of torture and as a finger again pressed into a healing wound he jumped, squeezing his eyes shut as the doctor continued, “Do you know how much pain the smallest amount of dirt or grime can cause if it gets into an open wound, Antonio?”

He swallowed hard, his breathing suddenly coming in tight gasps as he just knew he was about to find out. Within moments he felt something gritty being mercilessly ground into one of his healing wounds and all he could manage was a tight shrill scream of pain that he desperately tried to bite back as the wound began to burn. Within moments more grit was being judiciously introduced into several open wounds causing the burning pain in his back to triple and an immediate coating of sweat to break out across his skin. He tried to remain silent, tried to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from uttering a single sound twisting upon the metal table as the searing pain refused to abate building to a crescendo as his back quickly became so inflamed that he screamed. _What the hell had the bastard done? What the fuck…_

“Oh Antonio, has anyone ever told you that pouring salt into an open wound burns like hell?”

_FUCK!_

Squirming in his bonds he tried to ignore the pain, tried to keep silent, barely biting back another pain-laced scream as his tormentor proceeded to grind more salt into more of his healing wounds. 

****

Washington D.C. – Gibbs’ House

__

_Looking at the various images and signs she had strewn about the forensics lab Gibbs sighed quietly asking, “Abs, why don’t you take these down?”_

_“Absolutely not, Gibbs! They’re for Tony. He’s coming back.”_

_“Abs, he’s gone. Tony won’t be back.”_

_She hauled back and slapped him snapping, “Don’t you dare say that! How could you say that? He’s coming back!”_

_“Abby, he left us…”_

_She wheeled on him snapping, “NO. No he didn’t! And you should be out there searching for him!”_

_“Abby, he quit…”_

_“NO! Tony wouldn’t quit and if you’d get your head out of your ass… You should be searching for him not angry with him. HE HAD NO CHOICE!”_

_“Yes he…”_

_“You’re wrong, Gibbs, so wrong and they’re hurting him so badly. You have to bring him home. He’d do it for you.”_

_“Abby…”_

_“Tony didn’t quit! I know he didn’t!”_

 

Gibbs sighed rubbing at his tired eyes. He remembered that conversation like it was yesterday. His gut had been screaming, but he had ignored it, ignored Abby who apparently had known that Tony didn’t voluntarily leave. She _knew_ it, and he should have trusted her instincts.

Shaking his head he startled at the knock on his door. No one knocked anymore. They all knew they could just walk right in. Shaking his head he climbed off the couch managing, “Yeah…” and opening the door to see the person he had just been thinking of, “Abs you don’t need to knock.”

“I, I know but…”

“What are you doing here?”

She looked nervous, anxious and fidgety. Patiently he waited for her explanation swallowing hard as she confessed, “I had another of those…visions.”

“About Tony?”

“Yes. Gibbs, we need to find him. Bring him back.”

Instead of arguing he drew her into his arms answering quietly, “I know, Abs. I know.”

“So, wait…you believe me?”

“Come on.”

He guided her into the house closing the door before directing her towards his couch and urging her to sit. Once she was he continued, “Went to his place today…”

Abby froze managing a tense, leery, “Oh…” before adding, “Find anything?”

“Mrs. Markel misses him.”

She instantly relaxed making him suddenly very suspicious and prompting him to idly ask, “How long have you known?”

She sat up straight tension again returning to her body as she asked, “About what Gibbs?”

“White Plains, Maryland.”

“I hear it’s pretty this time of year.”

“Abby, I just came from there, was inside and everything. I know.”

She started balling her hands together and twisting them before carefully asking, “You…you know? How? Tony never… He…”

“Mrs. Markel was extremely helpful. Now how did you know, and don’t tell me he told you.”

She lowered her gaze wondering how much she should reveal, aware that this was _Gibbs_ , and she knew she could trust him. She wanted to tell him yet hesitated simply offering, “I…I’ve been searching for him…in, in my spare time just… Ever since he supposedly left us.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t believe it, still don’t. He wouldn’t just walk off the job like that. No one else seemed the least bit concerned so I… I vowed to find him.”

“And did you…find him?”

“Not… Well…”

“You found _something_?”

“No just… It’s all so…hinky, and it doesn’t make sense. He never… There’s no resignation attached to his personnel file, Gibbs.”

“Abby how would you know that?”

She twisted her hands firmer in her lap before answering, “Well I kind of, sort of…maybe took a, a small peek. Oh but I was careful so no one else would find out. I didn’t want to tip off…”

She trailed off aware that she may have just said too much. Gibbs felt the tension within build and his stomach knotting. This was the second time today that someone hinted at a possible spy in their midst. What the hell was going on? Forcing his focus back on the subject at hand he offered her a steady gaze before managing, “Abs…”

“I can’t.”

“What did you find?”

“Nothing just…”

“Abby?”

“Someone…someone accessed his personnel file… _two days_ before he…left.”

He was afraid of that. Drawing in a calming breath and forcing the tension out of his voice he continued, “Were you able to find out who?”

“Traced the IP address…”

“And?”

She hesitated drawing in her bottom lip to nibble nervously on it before answering, “It led back…to NCIS.”

“What?”

“Someone at NCIS hacked into Tony’s personnel files days before he…left. I, I don’t… It’s too…”

“Coincidental?”

“Yeah but it means…”

“That you inadvertently discovered we may have another leak.”

“Yeah…”

His worry now expanded to Abby as well. Tony had disappeared and according to Vance it was under suspicious circumstances. He had gotten too close, but too close to what? And now Abby had inadvertently stumbled onto something too. He had to protect her. Shaking his head he questioned, “Who else knows about this?”

“Uh…”

“Abby, if you’ve stumbled onto something you could be in danger too. Tony’s disappearance wasn’t coincidental. I think he stumbled onto something as well. I don’t want what happened to him to also happen to you. Tell me who else knows about this.”

“The Director… I, I had to tell him.”

Drawing her against him again he managed a quiet, “Ah shit Tony…what have you gotten yourself into?”

“Gibbs, we have to find him. I just, I have this _really_ bad feeling.”

“Yeah me too, Abs, me too.”

Silence settled between them for several moments before Abby softly said, “Gibbs, there’s evidence of…”

He pressed a gentle kiss atop her head already fairly certain of what she was about to reveal. Instead of interrupting her he waited for her to continue. When it was obvious she wasn’t going to he gently prodded, “Evidence of what, Abs? What?”

She spoke as if she hadn’t heard his questions and was still on her last thought mumbling, “But how could…? Why would someone do that to Tony? Tony would never…”

Closing his eyes he asked softer, “Do what, Abby?”

She turned towards him curling up tighter her hands now entangling into his shirt as she continued to twist them and nibble her bottom lip. Softening his voice he said her name imploringly hoping she’d continue and inhaling a deep somewhat shaky breath as she did, “There’s evidence, Gibbs.”

“Evidence Abs?”

She nodded then added, “He… Someone… I think someone betrayed him. Someone close to him, but why? Why would they…?”

He hated to ask the question but knew he needed to so without further hesitation he quietly asked, “Do you know who, Abs?”

“Can’t tell you, Director’s orders.”

“Someone on our team, Abs?”

She didn’t answer only buried her face in his shoulder, her own beginning to shake. Drawing her tighter against him he pressed another kiss to the crown of her head assuring, “We’ll find him, Abs. We’ll get him back.”

She nodded as she surrendered to the tears that had been teetering on the verge.

**

_Abyei, North Sudan_

He was so tired, exhausted actually and aware that he was shaking his body drenched in sweat, jaw throbbing fiercely from the strain exerted in an attempt to keep silent his suffering. His back was on fire still, the burning searing pain having subsided somewhat, but still lingering. As fingers combed through his sweat soaked hair he wanted to retaliate, but the energy to resist just wasn’t there.

His ears picked up on the shifting as his tormentor spoke again demanding, asking the same damned questions over and over like a broken record, demanding he answer. He tried to speak, attempted to do so but his throat was so dry and parched, achy and sore. His tongue was sticky and seemed to be permanently lodged to the roof of his mouth. He so wanted a drink, just a sip, anything to quench the overwhelming thirst he was presently plunged in.

Hearing the demand to answer again he tried to speak moving his lips but releasing no sounds. As a new unexpected sensation traveled the length of one of his burning lashes he jolted feeling the sharp contrast between burning flesh and icy cold. It was so damned cold that the shock to his overheated body had him sucking in a sharp breath.

As another icy object was applied to yet another burning lash he unconsciously shuddered in his bindings the doctor’s voice filling his mind as he taunted, “I can stop this you know. Permit you the rest I know you now desperately seek. All you have to do is…”

“No…,” came the quiet barely uttered reply. The doctor smiled glad to hear the retort. He then continued lowering to speak into his right ear, “You want to sleep, don’t you Antonio? Yes, I can see that you do, but I fear sleep for you will have to wait just a bit longer for those who fail to cooperate receive no reward. Do you know what else, Antonio? Those who fail to cooperate also gain no relief.”

The doctor proceeded to lift the pitcher of ice cold water he had been retrieving pieces of ice from before pouring all of it onto his unsuspecting patient who finally screamed launching violently against his restraints. Within moments the distinct sound of chattering teeth filled the room and his body began to course with uncontrollable shivers, an unfortunate natural reaction that served to extend his suffering further.

The doctor smiled in satisfaction before returning the pitcher to the sink. He then approached settling in the chair he had set up at the head of the exam table before perching both elbows on the edge and watching his patient attempt to regain focus. Shaking his head in disappointment he continued, “Ah, Antonio, if only you would tell us what we want to know, but you persist in being stubborn. You know it will only get worse for you, much, much worse I assure you.”

He then patted him on the head smiling delightedly as his stubborn patient cringed from the touch too weak to conceal his true emotions. Drawing his hands together he clapped and said in an overly cheery voice, “Ah well time for that cavity search, no?”

He was now so tired and so cold that his attention wavered, blessed unconsciousness snagging at him trying to hook him and pull him under. He didn’t register sounds and couldn’t comprehend what his tormentor was doing. His mind was riddled, steeped in overwhelming confusion. He tried to focus on something, anything but his mind felt fuzzy and his brain lethargic. He vaguely felt like he was falling, spinning out of control, but quickly jerked his head up trying to fight the exhaustion pulling him down. He had to remain awake, there was a reason but he couldn’t, for the life of him, even recall why. 

_Stop, please, stop!_

He hadn’t spoken those words aloud just in his mind as he felt a sudden invasion as his unresistant body was slowly breached and then everything went quiet, still and silent as he fell into the pitch blackness stalking him his mind and body fully surrendering to the demanding yank of unconsciousness. As his eyes rolled into the back of his head he was no longer aware of any thing.


	8. Inconsistencies

_Washington D.C. – Gibbs’ House_

As her shakes started to subside and she drew back to look at him Gibbs focused intently on her. Gently brushing the tears from her cheeks he softly requested, “Abs, tell me about them.”

She stared at him for several moments before shaking her head muttering, “Can’t, I can’t, Gibbs. Please don’t make me,” once again burying her face in his chest.

Holding her tighter he gently assured, “Okay, I won’t. I won’t okay?” 

She nodded in answer bunching her fists tighter into his shirt as she sought further comfort. A moment later he inquired, “Can you at least tell me when they started?”

“First week…”

“The first week?”

“Yeah, after Tony…”

“Okay Abs. It’s okay.”

Falling silent once more Gibbs turned his head pressing his left check to the side of hers. Without prompting she spoke again, “Ducky’s there and I, I see Tony, but…”

“It’s all right, Abs, you don’t have to tell me anymore.”

“He’s so _still_ , Gibbs, and Tony’s never…”

She shuddered, drawing in a shaky breath before managing, “I can’t. I can’t _think_ about it. I just…”

“I know, Abs. I know.”

Nodding she fell silent once more her mind already taunting her with snippets of the disturbing visions. She tried not to think about them, but it was of no use. The harder she tried the more they seemed to invade, faintly skirting the surface, forcing her to view them one by one. As they repeated she squeezed her eyes tightly shut wanting desperately to block them, yet unable to do so. Not able to erase the horrible sight of Tony lying atop one of Ducky’s autopsy tables, pale, covered in a vast array of cuts and bruising with his eyes shut as if in a deep sleep. 

As the images refused to abate the tremors began to course across her body setting goose bumps upon her flesh. When Gibbs felt them encompass her all he could do was draw her tighter against him reassuring, “We’re going to find him… You hear me Abs? We _will_ find him.”

“And what if we don’t? What if…”

Closing his own eyes he answered, “Hey, hey, don’t talk like that.”

“But if we…”

“We’re not going to talk like that. Okay? You hear me? Now I want you to listen to me. Are you listening Abby?”

Feeling her nod in response he continued, “ _We_ are going to find him, and we are going to bring him home.”

Shifting slightly in his embrace, she closed her eyes repeating that statement over and over again. They would find him. They would bring him home. They had to.

**

_The Next Day…  
Washington D.C. – Fornell’s House_

After his visit from Abby the previous evening he decided that he could no longer play by Vance’s rules. He needed to know just what the hell was happening with the investigation. Tony was _his_ agent, and he deserved to know! First step in doing so: pay an unannounced visit to one Tobias Fornell. Vance had mentioned that he was on the case, and something told him that he had been from the start. He had a missing agent and was partially at fault for his disappearance. He hadn’t _noticed_ , had actually been _angry_ with Tony. He had _believed_ Tony willingly walked off the job and out of his life. To protect himself he chose to focus on his anger and betrayal for Tony’s leaving. He had been so stupid. He had been a total asshole, and because he had it cost him his best damned agent. There was _no way_ he’d back down now, not after learning the truth. He _would_ find Tony, even if it killed him to do so!

Fornell was undoubtedly his best lead, and he just knew that Vance wouldn’t tell him anything. The only others in the know apparently were Abby and Palmer. Abby had already told him all she knew. Palmer? Well he didn’t think Palmer knew all that much other than what he had told him about at Tony’s house. No. The only possible lead now was Tobias. He had helped him before he could persuade him to do so again. He _had_ to. He was patient, well tried very hard to be anyways. He could wait him out. 

Without further hesitation he drove to the man’s house soon parking his vehicle across the road to lie in wait. After several moments passed he climbed out of his vehicle and casually leaned back first against it arms crossed leisurely in front. He knew it was only a matter of time before his friend would spot him, or exited to head to work, and he would stop him when he did.

Luckily, he didn’t have long to wait as within moments the agent appeared looking a cross between angry and irritated as he spoke, “So what brings you here, Agent Gibbs?”

Formal it was then, “I believe you already know, _Agent_ Fornell.”

“Hmm.”

He then approached and settled to the persistent man’s left echoing his posture before continuing, “So let me guess. You want something. Information I presume?”

“You presume correctly.”

“And what makes you think I have what you seek?”

“Call it a hunch.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Hmm.”

He fell silent again, only to continue several moments later, “So this _hunch_ of yours does it happen to involve a particular case, another leak in your agency or your missing field agent?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

Eying him perceptively he simply stated, “You know I can’t speak to you about this.”

“Ah come on, Tobias.”

“You’re a suspect, Gibbs, and even if you weren’t your team _is_.”

“Yeah about that, what _exactly_ is going on?”

“You know I can’t tell you anything. Least of all while you’re still under investigation and definitely **not** unless Vance gives me the green light.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m certain he told you to back off on this one, Jethro.”

“He might’ve mentioned it.”

“Then _what_ are you doing here?”

“At least let me look at the crime scene report.”

“No.”

“Then tell me anything _missing_ in that report?”

“Missing? Are you inferring that my people can’t navigate a crime scene, Gibbs?”

Instead of answering he persisted, “So what’s missing?”

“Nothing. Now how about you get in your car and drive yourself back to headquarters before I place a call to Vance demanding he tell me why his agent is interfering in an ongoing investigation.”

“Come on, Tobias, you know something you have to tell me.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s _my agent_.”

“Oh really? Since when?”

“Since… Come on.”

Tobias studied him for several moments before turning to gaze at his home not really seeing it as he pursed his lips. Sighing in frustration he offered, “He disappeared, vanished. Went missing in the PM. No witnesses.”

“None?”

“Neighbors were questioned, reported seeing a young man routinely jog by. He’d wave as he passed then keep going. They believed he was the one who bought the house at the end of the road, said he worked odd hours.”

“No one approached? Attempted to visit him? Nothing?”

“Not like old times, Gibbs. No one wants to get to know their neighbors anymore, too busy with their own lives.”

“What a load of crap.”

“Welcome to the 21st Century.”

He glowered in response. Fornell ignored the reaction continuing, “The day he went missing neighbors reported seeing an ambulance.”

“An ambulance?”

“Upon further questioning it was revealed that his neighbors didn’t know much more than that.”

“What? Neighbors see an ambulance in their area and no one is curious about it?”

“Oh they were curious all right, but not enough to want to delve too deeply into it.”

“So you got nothing.”

“We canvased the neighborhood, asked questions, got even less answers. Last person to see him oddly enough was your ME’s young assistant. Tell me how did he seem to know more about DiNozzo than you?”

Sighing aloud Gibbs simply responded, “Things have been a little rough lately.”

“Define _rough_.”

“On Tony, on us, on the team… Tensions have been high. It’s been _rough_ , Tobias.”

“Still doesn’t answer my question.”

“We were wearing him down only…”

“Only?”

“We didn’t see it.”

“I take it he was heading towards burn out?”

Gibbs cast his gaze away focusing first on the ground at his feet than off in the distance. After several moments he continued, “I could see it was wearing on him. Could tell it was getting harder and harder for him to make it to work each day. Don’t believe he was really sleeping much either. Always looked to be exhausted, you know? Haggard, tense. When he left that day I just, I figured he gave up.”

“You _figured_ he gave up? Just like that?”

Angry now he snapped, “Yes.”

Fornell gaped at him disbelievingly before asking, “Do you really think he’d just up and leave? Think I wouldn’t have grabbed him up myself if I’d known? Come on, Gibbs! You know him better than that! You know that he wouldn’t just _leave_.”

“I was sure…”

“Forgot one of your own rules, did you?”

Gibbs said nothing his eyes sparking. The only other indicator of his reaction was a slight twitch in his jaw and the stiffening of his shoulders. 

Fornell waited certain that Gibbs wouldn’t be satisfied with the minimal facts he’d provided. He’d want more, like a dog with a bone. It took only a few minutes longer before Gibbs spoke again, “I need to see that report.”

“You don’t _need_ to see anything. Your Director told you, _ordered_ you to let this drop. I suggest you follow his directives before you blow this whole damned case and we lose Agent DiNozzo once and for all.”

Gibbs remained quiet for the span of a heartbeat before commenting, “You’re the second one to imply that we could lose him. Why is that, Tobias? What aren’t you telling me?”

Sighing in exasperation he glanced briefly at Gibbs before shifting his eyes towards the house once more and answering, “Agent DiNozzo was forcefully _abducted_ from his home. He didn’t just disappear. He’s been gone for over three months, Gibbs, and we both know that most kidnap victims are lost once we…”

“Surpass the forty-eight hour window. Yes I know.”

“They left no evidence that he was alive. We’ve received no ransom demands and no Intel. He just _vanished_ without a trace. Then suddenly a few weeks ago you receive _pictures_ in the mail, _actual_ proof of life on an agent we’ve heard absolutely nothing about in months. Months Gibbs!”

“So…”

“Why now? Why send proof of life at all? Why wait over three months to do so?”

“To get to me…”

“Perhaps…”

Gibbs glared at him and Tobias nodded continuing, “Okay most likely, but it still doesn’t answer that burning question: why? Why _now_? Why didn’t they do so immediately after they grabbed him? Why wait any amount of time at all?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they were putting something in place and…”

“And that is why I can’t tell you anything more until I get approval from your Director. There’s more going on here than a simple political kidnapping, Gibbs, so much more and we are working damned near blind at the moment. Our chain of evidence tells us _nothing_ and we still don’t know exactly how he was even taken. If we screw this up, if the wrong person finds out then your agent is as good as dead. Do you want that to happen? If not than I highly suggest you back off and let my agency do our job! The last thing we need is you going off half-cocked and jeopardizing this entire case!”

As if to firmly end their conversation Gibbs’ phone began to ring. Agitated now he quickly answered, “Yes?”

“Agent Gibbs, where are you?”

“Visiting an old friend.”

“And would this friend just _happen_ to be Agent Fornell?”

“Now why would you think that, Leon?” he casually questioned glancing up at Fornell who had a superior smirk crossing his lips. Gibbs immediately became suspicious. He broke his gaze when Vance ordered, “You will get back in your car and report to my office immediately. Now, Agent Gibbs!"

“Yes, sir.”

The loud click of the phone being hung up on the other end had Gibbs drawing his away from his ear and looking at the screen before shaking his head and closing it. Regarding him quizzically he addressed Fornell, “Let me guess? Wasn’t your turn to drive to work today, Agent Fornell?”

Tobias smiled archly answering, “Something like that, Agent Gibbs.”

“Always a pleasure Tobias.”

“Indeed.”

Gibbs shook his head and turned to open his car door halting when Fornell gently grabbed his arm before adding, “Oh and Gibbs, I don’t have to tell you to keep this quiet, do I? You talk only to your Director.”

“It’ll be like I never saw you.”

“Better be or you’ll blow this case right out of the water.”

“Need to know, and my team doesn’t. Got it.”

“Good.”

Opening the door then lowering into the driver’s seat he paused before offering a sincere, “Thanks, Tobias.”

Nodding and closing his door for him Tobias attempted to reassure, “We’ll find him, Jethro. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Yeah.”

Watching as Gibbs pulled away from the curb he found himself praying that those weren’t just empty words.

**

_Washington D.C. – NCIS Headquarters_

Gibb’s climbed the stairs to Vance’s office already knowing what this particular meeting was going to be about. He had known that his morning conversation with Tobias wouldn’t stay quiet for long. He had just been hoping that it would’ve taken a tad bit longer to be discovered. Entering he greeted, “You wanted to see me, sir?”

Vance narrowed his eyes before responding, “You already know why you’re here, don’t you?”

“Have my suspicions, sir.”

“Right. Have a seat.”

“Yes sir.”

As soon as he was seated Leon began, “You want to tell me why you disobeyed a _direct order_ , Agent Gibbs?”

A small smirk began to twitch at the edges of Gibbs’ mouth before he shrugged a shoulder and answered, “Nah.”

“You were told to stand clear, to let the FBI conduct their investigation, yet I get a report that you not only visited Agent Fornell but demanded answers.”

“Didn’t demand, sir, I asked.”

“Nicely I assume?”

“Of course.”

“Gibbs I could charge you with obstruction, interfering in an ongoing investigation. Hell, I could probably even nail you with tampering…”

“He’s _my_ agent, Leon.”

“It was an order, Gibbs.”

“And one of my agents is missing! I damned well should be in the loop on this one!”

“Not this one, Gibbs, not with your team being suspect.”

“Ah come on, Leon!”

Glaring at him intently he replied, “Luckily Agent Fornell seems to agree with you.”

“What?”

“Says you could help us with this one.”

“Thought I was under investigation.”

“You were.”

“Find anything?”

“A few minor concerns, nothing concrete.”

“Hmm.”

“Need I remind you that only Balboa's team and four other people in this agency know what we’re dealing with?”

“Four?”

“Miss Scuito spoke with me earlier.”

“Ah so I can coordinate with Abby?”

“It needs to stay on the down low, Gibbs. Your team cannot find out what is going on. Balboa’s team has the lead on this one.”

“Thought it was an FBI case, Leon.”

“It is. We’re coordinating with them on this one. He’s one of ours. We _need_ to be involved.”

“You mean you insisted.”

Vance arched an eyebrow at his senior agent before sighing in frustration, “Don’t make me regret this, Agent Gibbs. If you do it could mean Agent DiNozzo’s life.”

“I know what’s at stake, Leon. I’ll be damned if I mess this one up.”

“Good. I’ve given Fornell the go ahead to bring both you and Miss Scuito up to speed on what’s so far been done with this case. I’ll warn you now, Gibbs. It’s not a lot. Evidence on this case has been feeble at best. It’s why we are so certain there’s an insider. No case is this neat and clean, _especially_ when it involves a missing federal agent.”

“Understood.”

Focusing intently on him he added, “Emphasize to her that the rest of your team is not to know.”

“She won’t talk, Leon.”

“We both know that Miss Scuito has a hard time not interfering when her favorite team goes through rough patches. If she can’t keep this quiet, or you suspect she can’t then you need to let me know now, Gibbs. We can’t risk revealing things to her if her first inclination is to run to Agents David or McGee with what she knows or suspects.”

“I’ll speak with her, but I don’t really think you’ll have any issues.”

“What makes you say that?”

“She knows the risks, and she’s willing to do just about anything to get him back. No, she won’t reveal what she knows.”

“Good. If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

“The meeting’s been set up for later this afternoon _at_ FBI headquarters.”

“Why not here, Leon?”

“Call me paranoid but I think it’s the safest place to have that particular discussion at the moment.”

“Works for me.”

“Good. He’ll expect both you and Miss Scuito at 2pm this afternoon.”

“Thanks Leon.”

Lowering his gaze to his desk he began to shuffle with papers before adding, “Don’t make him regret this. He’s risked his neck for you.”

“I know.”

“Good, need I remind you…?” 

Gritting his teeth to bite back an angry retort at the repeated reminder Gibbs cut in, “My team is to know nothing.”

“Yes,” glancing up at his now angry agent Vance continued softer, “And Gibbs? I’m truly sorry for that.”

“Well I don’t think either of them are guilty, but if they are I want them to hang themselves for it.”

Nodding Vance simply responded, “Glad we agree on something,” before returning his focus to the pile of papers on his desk. The dismissal obvious. 

**  
_FBI Headquarters – Fornell’s Office_

As Gibbs entered his office he looked up immediately noting the absence of the man’s forensic scientist. Hesitating only briefly he commented, “Ah I see you’re making rounds today, Agent Gibbs.”

“Yeah.”

“And where is Miss Scuito? I was under the impression that she would be joining us.”

“She was.”

“And?”

“She was needed on a case, so I’ll be bringing her up to date on all of this.”

“And she was okay with that? I thought her and DiNozzo were close.”

“Oh they are, but it would be a bit suspicious if we were to both leave for a scheduled meeting that neither my team nor my ME were invited to.”

“I see… Can she can be trusted?”

“Yes, Tobias. I’ve already had this discussion with my Director.”

“All right then. Have a seat.”

Nodding he complied before insisting, “So you want to tell me just what the hell is going on with my agent, Tobias?”

Sighing in frustration Fornell shook his head before drawing out an obviously well-read file and tossing it in front of him with a simple ‘don’t mess that up’ before answering, “That’s all we have at present. I admit it’s not much.”

Glancing through the much too thin file on an active federal investigation Gibbs was highly troubled. DiNozzo has been missing for over three months and _this_ was all the information they had? Surely not. What the hell was going on here? 

Closing the file in disgust Gibbs refocused on Fornell prompting, “Tell me about the scene.”

“It was neat, almost too neat. Nothing much out of place. No real evidence or indicator of just _how_ he was taken. They cleaned up after themselves, tied up all loose ends.”

“Except one.”

“Possibly.”

“Let me guess what was missing.”

“Gibbs…”

“His backup weapon.”

Sighing in frustration Fornell demanded, “How could you even _know_ that? We kept it quiet!”

“When I was at his house the day the Director showed up I could only find one weapon.”

“His primary in a lock box.”

Nodding he continued, “DiNozzo was never without his backup. He always had it with or near him. The fact that I could find no trace of it? That’s not DiNozzo.”

Nodding in acceptance of the explanation Fornell settled for a simple, “Gibbs, we have no proof. All we know is that it appears to be missing.”

“Oh sure Tobias, well-trained federal agents _always_ lose track of their back up weapons. Nothing odd there at all.”

“Gibbs…”

“We have his primary, but can find absolutely no trace of his backup, to me that’s pretty damned important, Tobias. Weapons don’t just disappear, especially one’s belonging to fully trained federal agents. We _need_ to find it.”

“Don’t you think I know that? We have _nothing_. If we can track that weapon it just might get us an _actual_ lead. What I want to know is the why? Why would someone even consider taking it? It would be a direct link to DiNozzo.”

“I don’t know, but it’s looking like it’s the only real lead we’ve got.”

Fornell hunched his shoulders continuing, “We’ve been unable to locate it which is odd, I admit, but it doesn’t really tell us much. If they wanted to steal his weapons why wouldn’t they take both of them? Why leave his primary?”

“You said it was in the closet.”

“Yes, left in a lock box…”

“Convenient.” 

Gibbs tensed as another idea struck him, “You think he was grabbed _before_ he locked up his primary?”

“Doesn’t make sense. We checked the box and weapon, nothing. Everything looked normal. Only fingerprints on or near that weapon and box were his. There was no gun powder residue, nothing. It was clean, looked as if it hadn’t even been fired recently. It was almost too…”

" _Clean_ , Tobias?”

“Yeah.”

Nodding he continued voicing his thoughts, “Okay so we have his primary weapon. No evidence of tampering or firing. There’s no trace of his back up. The scene, you mentioned, seemed almost too clean…”

“Your point?”

“Just thinking out loud, Tobias…”

Nodding he waited before Gibbs asked another question, “What about the take down? Was there any evidence to suggest one?”

Pointing at the folder in Gibb’s hands he simply said, “You tell me.”

Gibbs taking the hint began to sort through the folder again before pausing to read. After several moments he questioned, “No sign of forced entry?”

“Not that we could find.”

More questions and inaccuracies, great. Shaking his head in frustration he casually inquired, “If there was one any idea on just _how_ one could take down a well-trained, possibly fully armed federal agent?”

“That’s what scares me. We know he was most likely down when he left…”

“Right, ambulance.”

“Yep. How he got that way though? We can only guess.”

“Yet there were no signs of a struggle? No evidence left behind? Nothing?”

“Well there was the disabled security camera.”

“There is that."

“And the fact that his door was unlocked when we arrived on scene.”

“You the first unit on scene?”

“Yeah. There was nothing to report. No crime appeared to have taken place. His vehicle’s in the garage, mail left on the bench beside his jacket, keys on the counter. We treated it like a crime scene because Vance asked us to. He had some suspicions, said DiNozzo spoke with him prior about a discovery…”

“Yeah something involving my team.”

“Oh? I was unaware you knew of such things, Jethro.”

“First time I went there, ran into Vance. Hey you lock up after you left?”

“Yes why?”

“Didn’t check the door when I arrived, picked it.”

“Sloppy of you. Most likely was already locked.”

“How do you figure?”

“Palmer’s been keeping an eye on the place.”

“Ah.”

“From what we can infer with our evidence, or rather lack _of_ evidence, they didn’t want it to be known. They wanted to keep it quiet, make it appear as if nothing had ever taken place.”

“Didn’t want to raise suspicion and with us not knowing he moved and assuming he quit the agency…”

“No one would be interested enough to check on his whereabouts. They could make a clean getaway with no one the wiser.”

“Except that Palmer…”

“Who spoke with him last called…”

“And he was allowed to watch over DiNozzo’s place? No investigation on him?”

“Vance ruled him out as a possible almost immediately.”

“Why?”

“He’s the only one that _knew_ Tony wasn’t quitting that day. He’s also the one who brought up his concerns when DiNozzo didn’t answer his first five phone calls. Apparently after getting no answer he drove to the house, when he saw the damaged security camera he called Vance.”

“And at what time was that?”

“About 10 pm that evening.”

“How did you determine the time he went missing?”

“Checked into when he left headquarters, cross-checked it with Dispatch, linked it with the length of time it would take him to get home and used the time witnesses reported seeing an ambulance to get our estimated window.”

“So what? They were lying in wait for him and nabbed him when he entered the house?”

“That’s the general consensus, yes.”

“General consensus? Not solid proof then.”

“No. As I said already the crime scene was neat, orderly.”

“If they were lying in wait, as you say, then why’d they need an ambulance?”

“Contingency plan, maybe?”

“Which would be what exactly? They would have already had a vehicle in the vicinity. Why not just use that as the getaway car? Why use an ambulance at all?”

“Don’t know, maybe they needed to move him fast and inconspicuously. They couldn’t linger, especially when they couldn’t possibly predict all possible scenarios.”

“None of this makes any sense!”

“Frustrating, I know. We’ve been stumped for some time. No case has this many holes, this many dead ends. Another reason why Vance is certain it’s an inside job and there’s much more going on than we realize.”

“Well we need to find out just what the hell is going on before we lose him!”

“We will. They’ll mess up eventually. They always do.”

Not feeling much relief from that assurance he settled on channeling his frustration in a different direction, “Okay so this ambulance why do you think DiNozzo was even in it?”

“There’s no other house on that end of the road. The only place the ambulance could have come from was his.”

“And did you track down the ambulance?”

“Yeah, nothing, led to a whole bunch more dead ends and more questions than answers.”

Dead ends, minimal clues, no real evidence that anything even took place at DiNozzo’s home. The only things they could say for certain was that he had to have been home because of…but if he were grabbed as he _entered_ his house that would mean he would have had no time to take off his jacket, place his mail on the bench or… Shit!

“Unless…”

“Unless what, Gibbs?”

“Someone’s been playing us.”

“What?”

“Hear me out, Tobias. What if nothing is as it seems?”

“Gibbs I don’t follow.”

“What if it was a diversionary tactic? What if DiNozzo wasn’t even _in_ that ambulance?”

“What?” 

Gibbs gazed off in the distance not focusing on anything in particular, his mind sifting through what they had just discussed before settling on asking, “What bothers you the most about this case, Fornell?”

Startled by the unexpected question Tobias turned to look at his friend. Gibbs seeing his questioning gaze added, “You have years of field experience and training. What in this case seems…I don’t know off?”

“Who says anything _is_ off, Gibbs?”

“Come on. We have no leads, no evidence, nothing. Something’s not right.”

“Is that your gut talking?”

Gibbs pursed his lips as he waited for his answer, “Okay, if I were to be honest with you? The whole damned thing bothers me. We’re being stonewalled. What bothers me the most? The lack of evidence. I mean even if it’s an inside job we should have evidence of _something_. Instead we have a whole lot of nothing.”

“Anything else bother you?”

“Yes, the crime scene.”

“What bothers you about the crime scene?”

“Already answered that. It was clean, almost too clean. It almost seemed as if…”

Gibbs reacted without thinking as he added, “It’s not the real crime scene.”

“Yeah but…”

“No. What if it wasn’t the _actual_ crime scene?”

“Come on, Gibbs that would mean…”

“ _Why_ did you believe it to be the official crime scene?”

“Well, all the evidence points to him having arrived home: car in the garage, keys on the counter, gun locked away, damaged security camera…”

“But no evidence of a take down, _at all_. **Every** contact leaves a trace. Even if they had cleaned up that house after grabbing him there would have been some kind of trace evidence at the scene.”

“We couldn’t find any signs of chemicals, blood splatter, fingerprints…”

“It doesn’t make sense, Tobias. You said you were working off the idea that they wanted to grab him and go. Why would they take the time _then_ to straighten out his place? Not to mention that we have a victim who is not only well-trained but _fully_ armed forcefully taken from his home but no obvious signs of a struggle were apparent. Everything is neat and orderly. Tony would not have gone down without a fight, _even_ if they had to _drug_ him to bring him down. There would have been _some_ kind of evidence.”

“Which is why we are certain there’s an insider who betrayed him.”

“Okay so say there is an insider who tipped off their accomplice that DiNozzo was heading home. They would have had to lie in wait. They’d have to be in position to grab him, and have to keep their vehicle hidden.”

“Wait. Why keep the vehicle hidden?”

“Did you see how isolated his house is Tobias? If a car was parked across from his house he _would_ have noticed it and became suspicious, cautious…”

“And?”

Gibbs fell silent for several moments before speaking again, “Why did you believe his home to be the crime scene?”

“Because of the evidence...”

“Crime scenes can be staged. Evidence can be planted. What if he _never_ made it home?”

“His car was in the garage, keys on the counter.”

“You mentioned his keys were on the counter.”

“Yes.”

“But how is that possible? If he was grabbed they would have fallen…”

“We think the abductors placed them there. No prints found on the keys though.”

“Again why would they do that?”

“Cover their tracks.”

“No one is that good, Tobias, not even a fully trained officer is _that_ good. Typical MO for a high priority target is either home invasion or trap and grab… What if, and this is only hypothetical, but what if they staged his home and the ambulance to divert attention from the real crime scene?”

“Why would they do that?”

“You already know why, Tobias.”

“Right minimizes possible evidence, corrupts it. Gets rid of any trace evidence…”

“And with the time lapse makes it damned near impossible to recreate the scene or discover anything of value regarding the case.”

“Damn.”

“Did anyone happen to check for accidents along his route on that day?”

“His car is in the garage Gibbs, which means he drove it home.”

“Or he didn’t drive it on _that_ day. Who saw him last?”

“I believe it was Jimmy Palmer.”

“Could he tell us if DiNozzo drove his own vehicle that day?”

“Wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

“We need to question him further. We need to see if we can retrace Tony’s route. We need to figure out what _really_ happened.”

“Yeah but at present you’re operating with a team of one, excluding Miss Scuito, of course.”

“Not true. The Director told me Balboa’s team is lead on our end, so what we need to do is get together, compare notes, lay out the evidence, go through it all again and see where this thing leads.”

“Easier said than done, especially since your team needs to remain blind to it all.”

“So we meet here or in the Director’s office…”

“That won’t look suspicious at all.”

“Any other suggestions, Fornell?”

“Nah, but our investigation just became a hell of a lot bigger.”

“If it finds me my agent I’m good with that.”

Shaking his head Fornell sighed forlornly as he replied, “I just _know_ I’m going to regret this.”

“Ah cheer up Tobias. It’ll be fun.”

Fornell gaped at him as if he were crazy, or perhaps insane trying to blatantly ignore the obvious headache now stirring, actually relieved when Gibbs’ phone began to ring.

Agitated by the interruption Gibbs glanced at the screen then quickly answered, “What is it, Agent McGee?”

“Body just turned up in Laurel, Maryland, boss.”

“Okay, Tim, I’m on my way.”

Ending the call after getting the location information he turned to Fornell requesting, “Keep me in the loop, Tobias.”

“Will do, and should you successfully turn something up…”

“I’ll return the favor.”

“Good.”

“Your investigation. Your lead.”

With that he exited the Hoover building, climbed into his vehicle and drove away.


	9. A Step in the Right Direction

_Laurel, Maryland – Forest Haven Asylum_

Driving into the crumbling lot of what appeared to be two very decrepit buildings, Gibbs noticed first the amount of cruisers present, only a few. Thankfully it appeared that the local LEO’s knew how to secure a crime scene. Second, he noted that the campus was rather isolated. It was mostly in ruins containing over ten abandoned buildings and surrounded on all sides by dense woods.

Quickly finding a place to park he shut off his car. Ducky was already here, having arrived moments before him apparently, as he and Palmer were still removing bags from their truck. McGee and Ziva were also here. Climbing out of his own vehicle, he paused to pull on gloves before taking the time to actually look around. He noticed that in amongst the multiple abandoned buildings and busted up roads stood several newer looking buildings. The most notable? The large complex to the left of their crime scene.

As McGee approached he questioned, “What is this place, Tim?”

“Forest Haven Asylum, or rather what’s left of it. Most of the buildings are now in various stages of disrepair, except for the few newer buildings scattered throughout.”

Pointing to their left towards the grouping of white buildings he informed, “Those are an elementary school. Diagonal and to the right of us is a juvenile detention center. Most of the other buildings are empty and have been for years. They’re all that remains of the asylum.”

Nodding, he briefly scanned the campus before urging, “Tell me about our body.”

“Sergeant Peterson and his partner were first on the scene. They received the call around 15:30, arrived shortly thereafter. They then secured the area before entering the garage. Once inside they approached the vehicle then called us.”

“Did they say why they called us?”

“Uh no but this complex is part of Fort Meade so it does fall under our jurisdiction.”

Nodding he requested, “Tell me about the scene.”

“We have an abandoned car in an old garage. It looks like someone drove it inside then left shortly thereafter. Car looks like it’s been here a couple of months. Some rusting is notable, some rot to the interior due to a broken passenger side window, other than that it’s in relatively decent shape. The body, or rather what’s left of it, is located in the driver’s seat. It’s too decomposed to get adequate fingerprints, so we were waiting on Ducky to arrive.”

“All right, let’s go.”

As they headed towards the garage a local LEO called out to the approaching two, “One of you an Agent Gibbs?”

“That’d be me.”

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Sergeant Peterson.”

“What do we have?”

“Follow me.”

Complying he followed the man into the garage and over to the abandoned car where Ducky was preparing to examine the body. Lowering beside his ME he prompted, “Ducky, talk to me.”

“Well I can’t tell you much, Jethro, but by the state of our victim I’d say they have been here for several months. Unfortunately, the deterioration of the body makes it rather difficult to determine the exact date or time of death. I’ll need to get them on my table for that.”

“What _can_ you tell me, Duck?”

“There’s a defined hole in the front of the skull. It appears our poor victim may have been shot.”

“Through the window perhaps?” He asked while indicating the shattered passenger side window. Ducky answered, “Doubtful.”

“Doubtful?”

“Unless it was after the window was smashed out and our victim was facing that direction. The body appears to have been moved…several times…and there’s some deep grooving to the left clavicle.”

“Grooving, Duck?”

“I fear our victim was either shot more than once or stabbed.”

“Two shots?”

“Perhaps but only speculation at this point, I’m afraid we won’t know more until we get back to the lab.”

Nodding he turned to focus on his team directing, “Tim, bag and tag. Ziva, shoot and sketch,” before addressing the officer at his side, “Okay, uh Sergeant Peterson, what can you tell me?”

“The victim was found by two local teens who most likely were trespassing.”

Flipping to the next page in his steno pad Gibbs asked, “Does that happen often?”

“An abandoned asylum with a sprawling campus and scattered crumbling buildings throughout? You tell me.”

“Local hangout then?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“You chase a lot out?”

“All the time. Homeless, thrill seekers, ghost hunters, you name it.”

“So anyone at any given time could walk or drive onto the property?”

“We have guard towers, and a patrol that drives through every two hours. With the addition of the elementary school the trespassing has decreased a little, but not much. Teens have their own path through the woods. We try to monitor it as best we can.”

“And do you know the path, Sergeant?”

“Sure do. They come in off of Fort Meade Road and park at the back of the storage facility. Once there they cross Old Portland into the woods and make their way onto the campus.”

“They walk in?”

“Most do yes.”

“Any drive in?”

“Teens no, adults yes. Most of them are headed to the elementary school, some to the detention center, other than that we have the occasional group of teens attempt to drive through but not with as much frequency.”

“And this particular area, Sergeant?”

“While a road does go by it very few wander up this far.”

“Why?”

“Close proximity to the elementary school and most are stopped at the main road onto the campus.”

“Which is?”

“Center Avenue, next road over, it runs in front of the old infirmary and administrative buildings. The only other way in is via River Road, which is the road you came in on.”

“Anything else?”

The officer focused on him intently before continuing, “Have two of my detectives comprising a list of possible witnesses. There aren’t many.”

Opening his mouth to speak Peterson cut him off with, “I’ll make sure the list gets back to you.”

“Thank you. Is that all?”

Pinning Gibbs with a steady gaze he added in a voice edged with tension, “I had my boys call you when they found this behind the driver’s side seat.”

Gibbs focused on the item in his hand and asked in irritation, “Is that a wallet, Sergeant?”

“Yes sir.”

“And why was it moved before my team was in place?”

Cutting him off before he could proceed with the tantrum he was no doubt prepping for the Sergeant bluntly informed, “Had my men run his name.”

“And?”

“I believe he’s one of yours,” he answered extending the ID towards him.

The moment Gibbs’ eyes landed on the ID he snatched it out of the officer’s hand and demanded, “Did anyone else touch anything in or around the scene?”

“No. As soon as I confirmed he was an agent I halted my men to preserve as much of the crime scene as I could.”

Gibbs sighed in relief and answered, “Thank you Sergeant.”

Nodding he commented, “I take it he _is_ one of yours, Agent Gibbs?”

Looking at the ID in his now slightly shaking hand he responded, “Yeah, yeah he’s one of mine.”

Noting the obvious emotions the seasoned agent was trying to poorly conceal, he softened his voice and simply asked, “He’s important to you?”

“Yeah, yeah he is.”

Pulling out an evidence bag he slid the open bill fold inside before sealing it and snapping, “McGee, Ziva I want this crime scene thoroughly processed. Go through everything with a fine tooth comb. Anything that looks even remotely like it could be evidence bag it. I don’t care how innocuous it is. This crime scene is top priority. I want to know how that vehicle got here. Who our victim is, if there were any passengers and anything else that could help us to determine just what the hell happened.”

Ducky turned to look at Gibbs noting his sudden haggard appearance he softly inquired, “Jethro, what is it?”

Sighing in frustration and worry he settled on simply handing the ID to Ducky. Ducky took it and flipped it over only managing an, “Oh dear,” before adding, “If it’s any consolation, Jethro, I’m certain that our victim is female.”

“Where the hell is he, Duck? And how the hell did his wallet end up at _this_ crime scene?”

Curiosity got the best of him and Palmer glanced over Ducky’s shoulder drawing in a harsh breath as he managed one word, “Tony.”

Noting that Palmer’s exclamation drew the attention of both of his junior agents he mentally cursed. If they knew just who that wallet belonged to would they deliberately corrupt the scene? He prayed not. He was sure that neither of them had anything to do with Tony’s disappearance but for some reason Vance was certain that one of them did. He hoped he hadn’t screwed everything up by unintentionally revealing just whose ID had just been found.

Angry now he snarled, “Back to work! And McGee?”

“Yeah boss?”

Pointing emphatically at the broken glass glinting on the passenger and back seats he ordered, “Make sure to bag some of that shattered glass, note how far the shards extend and in which direction.”

“I know boss.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Get to it!”

The tension in the building suddenly seemed to increase three fold and everyone could feel its suffocating presence. This investigation was going to be a long one. 

Drawing in a calming breath Gibbs returned his focus to his ME asking, “How soon can you remove the body?”

Palmer paused in his shooting of photos answering, “Almost done, Doctor.”

“Give us a few more moments, Jethro.”

“You’ve got it Duck.”

Watching his two other agents closely as they continued to collect evidence he added, “I want that body and this car taken back to Abby’s lab for further processing. I want her to go over every inch front to back, inside and out.”

Ducky stood up placing a calming hand on Gibbs’ right shoulder as he assured, “She will,” pausing before speaking his own thoughts aloud, “But why do I get the feeling that it is not Abigail you are worried about?"

Gibbs glanced at him briefly before his gaze settled intently on his two younger agents. Ducky nodded before adding, “If it’s any consolation, Jethro, I do not believe they would purposely sabotage any evidence at this crime scene.”

Shifting his gaze back to Ducky again, aware that the older man saw way more than anyone ever gave him credit for, he settled on answering, “I hope you’re right about that, Duck. I hope you’re right.”

Nodding he turned back to his assistant and addressed a bit louder, “Mister Palmer, do you have that gurney ready?”

“Right here, Doctor,” answered Palmer as he wheeled the empty gurney up to the side of the car.

“Well then let’s get our poor victim home, shall we?”

Nodding the two of them carefully transferred the victim’s remains from the vehicle to the gurney before heading back to their truck. 

As soon as the body was cleared Gibbs began to carefully examine the vehicle driver side. Seeing trace evidence of what appeared to be a dark black substance on the back of the seat he called Ziva over and pointed. She approached scanning the area herself before spraying it with Luminol. Gibbs addressed, “McGee?”

Seeing the spray bottle in Ziva’s hand, Tim immediately approached the garage light switch and flicked it off while Gibbs turned off the vehicle’s interior lights revealing an area that was now fluorescing, “It appears to be blood, Gibbs…”

“Abby will be able to tell us more once she gets the vehicle. Make sure to get some shots of this.”

Turning the lights back on Tim returned to searching for any more evidence, and Ziva began taking photos. Gibbs continued his visual scan of the driver’s side being joined shortly by Ziva who interrupted, “There appears to be no evidence of a bullet having passed through this seat.”

“Yep.”

“Ducky said the victim had been shot in the head, no?”

“Yeah.”

“But not here, not in _this_ vehicle.”

“No not here, not enough blood and no signs of splatter.”

“If not here then where?”

“Ducky said the body appeared to have been moved more than once.”

“So shot elsewhere then placed in this car. Why?”

Receiving no answer and not expecting one, she continued to scan the area carefully before questioning, “The ID was found where?”

Eyeing her skeptically he licked his now dry lips before answering, “Behind the driver’s seat on the floor.”

She regarded him curiously, “You are worried, yes?”

Fists now bunching, he forced himself to draw in a calming breath before releasing it then replied, “I don’t know, Ziva, you think?”

Knowing that look in his eyes she settled on moving to the back seat and continuing her scan. They fell into an awkward silence after that until Gibbs broke it with, “Ziva, see if you can get a shot of that,” indicating a wedged phone beneath the seat. Photographing it she waited for him to hold it up for more pictures then returned to scanning the back seat.

Gibbs snapped, “McGee, bag!”

Immediately he appeared handing one to Gibbs who placed the phone inside, sealing and dating it before stating, “Make sure it gets to Abby. See if she can pull anything off of that chip thing-y.”

“On it!”

McGee aware that he couldn’t rush it to Abby as they were still at the crime scene and noting the irritation in Gibbs eyes settled on, “I’m just going to continue processing the passenger side, boss.”

“You do that, McGee.”

“Yes, boss.”

As McGee made his way back Ziva spoke again, “Do you think he was the driver or the passenger?”

Gritting his teeth, refusing to look at her, he settled on barking, “Well gee I don’t know, Ziva. As of right now we don’t even know if he was _in_ this vehicle.”

“But Gibbs…”

“Your job is to collect evidence and take photos, not make assumptions on a newly discovered crime scene.”

“Understood.”

Exchanging a tense look with McGee she then settled on once again examining the back seat for any kind of evidence. Once to the shattered glass she noted the direction of the shards and scanned the interior pausing at the passenger side window before verbally voicing her suspicions, “The passenger window was shattered, most likely by some kind of a brunt object, if I were to make a guess I would have to say a bat perhaps? Someone sitting in the passenger seat would have been undoubtedly sprayed by the glass shards…”

Gibbs interrupted, “ _If_ the window was in fact smashed in, David.”

“You are thinking whoever was in the seat tried to break the window out, Gibbs?”

“At this time we don’t even know if there was a passenger.”

“Then how did a broken cell phone become wedged under the driver’s seat?”

“I don’t know, David, that’s why we are investigating.”

McGee glanced from Gibbs to Ziva and back before hesitantly interrupting with, “Uh boss, looks like trace amounts of some kind of fluid on this seat as well.”

“So there _was_ someone in the passenger seat,” added Ziva proudly.

Gibbs offered, “Or the body was moved from one seat to another.”

McGee jerked his head up to focus on Gibbs. After an audible pause Tim continued asking the question he’d been wanting to ever since Palmer announced his missing partner’s name, “You think he was in the car, boss?”

Face growing pensive he answered, “I don’t know, Tim, but that’s what we’re going to find out.”

“Uh, yes…yes, sir, uh boss.”

“Finish processing the scene then get this stuff back to Abby. The sooner we can get it back to her…”

“The better.”

“Yeah.”

Standing up he gazed once again at his two young agents a knot continuing to build deep within. His gut was telling him that he could trust them, but he also knew the dangers if he were wrong. If either of them really were involved in Tony’s disappearance then by permitting them to work the scene he could have possibly corrupted all of their evidence. But what was he supposed to do? They had already started processing it before the sergeant had showed him that ID. He hadn’t _known_ , hell had never even _expected_ , to run across a crime scene that would link directly to his missing Senior Field Agent. To pull them off the crime scene after they had already started to process it? That would have just made things so much worse. Now? Now he would have to contact the Director and Fornell, certain that neither would be happy with what had occurred, but what else was he supposed to do? 

“Damn it!”

He hated being told he couldn’t fully trust his team. The Director had to be wrong. Neither of them could do anything to hurt Tony, could they? Shaking his head as his mind began to play an assorted array of times when the two agents had in fact hurt him, whether inadvertently or not, he found himself very much doubting his convictions. Now _that_ did not sit well with him…

“Boss, we’re done.”

Glancing up at his temporary senior agent he replied, “All right, Tim. Let’s get this stuff back to Abby.”

“On it, boss!”

Nodding he watched as the young man headed over to the sergeant and began speaking quietly to him. The whole time he watched him he hoped that he hadn’t made one of the biggest mistakes of his career. For if he had messed up by letting them work this scene and it lost them DiNozzo… He would never forgive himself.

**

_Washington D.C. – NCIS Headquarters_

Entering the bullpen with coffee in hand Gibbs focused on both of his agents pausing briefly before ordering, “McGee see what you can dig up on the crime scene…”

“Forest Haven Asylum.”

“Yes then start tackling that list of possible witnesses the detectives compiled for us. Once done with that I’ll need you in Abby’s lab see if you can pull anything off of that phone.”

“And Abby?”

“She’s processing the car, McGee.”

“Right. Got it, boss.”

“Ziva…”

“Run a search on the license plate. See if we can find the owner. Then help McGee start tracking down our witnesses.”

Nodding he continued, “Start with the vehicle first. I want to know who owns it, where that car has been, how it got to that garage and how it’s connected to a missing agent.”

Nodding in acknowledgement she began the search on her computer. McGee hesitated addressing Gibbs, “And you?”

“I’ll be up in Vance’s office.”

The ding of the elevator interrupted their conversation as Tobias Fornell stepped out with several other FBI agents pausing by their area. McGee caught sight of him first managing, “Uh boss…”

Tobias interrupted, “Agent McGee, Agent David.”

“Sir.”

He watched as they both quickly returned their attentions to their computers. David seemed more focused than McGee. He noted how the young man kept sending surreptitious glances his way. What was he up to, and why did he seem to be so nervous? As those eyes again darted up to his face before quickly averting Fornell turned to examine David. She was still focused intently on her screen, sitting up straighter than necessary no doubt listening in. Pausing he settled his gaze onto Gibbs inquiring, “Anything yet?”

Gibbs broke off his own intense study of McGee replying, “No Abby’s still going over the car, body’s in autopsy with Ducky,” his eyes proceeding to slide over to David with the slightest hint of suspicion glinting in them.

Noting the exchanges among all three of them Fornell nodded then addressed his own men, “You two report to Miss Scuito, Evidence Garage.”

Both agents quickly broke off and headed to the elevator. When the doors closed Fornell added, “Meet you in the Director’s office, Gibbs.”

Once Fornell disappeared McGee pinned Gibbs with a piercing gaze inquiring, “Uh boss why is Agent Fornell here?”

Rising to pursue his friend he tossed over his shoulder, “Missing federal agent possibly connected to our case, McGee,” before ambling after him.

“Right.”

Watching his boss ascend the stairs left him feeling nervous and uncertain. Something seemed off, but he couldn’t figure out what. Pushing it to the back of his mind, McGee shifted in his seat before focusing intently on his search. He was unaware of the two sets of eyes now watching him suspiciously.

**

_NCIS Headquarters – Vance’s Office_

Entering he approached the Director halting as Fornell, brow wrinkled in vexation, started, “Need to know, Jethro, that’s all we asked. Then I get a call in my office that not only is Agent McGee involved in my investigation but Agent David as well.”

Face flushing he settled on, “It was unexpected.”

“Unexpected? You left my office _hours_ ago, Jethro! Not even a day goes by and suddenly your agents now have their hands in my investigation?”

“It couldn’t be helped.”

“Couldn’t be…"

Irritated now he snapped, “Well, I certainly didn’t plan to have them involved in a crime scene connected to my missing agent!”

Vance interrupted easing the tension now crackling around the room, “Then how did this happen, Agent Gibbs?”

Sighing in frustration he responded, “I was meeting with Fornell when the call came in. McGee said we had a body in Laurel, Maryland.”

“Laurel?”

“Yes, sir. When I arrived on scene I met with the local LEO’s. My team was already processing the scene when I was shown his ID. There was nothing I could do, Leon. McGee had already started collecting evidence. David was taking pictures and making sketches. Ducky had even started to examine the body. When I approached the sergeant who had called us he told me that the body had been discovered by some local teens _then_ he told me why he called us specifically.”

“You didn’t ask upon arrival?”

“Fort Meade is our jurisdiction. It’s not uncommon to get calls regarding bodies dumped on or near that base.”

Vance nodded saying, “So you made a judgment call.”

“I had two choices: pull them off the scene abruptly or let them continue to process the scene while keeping a damned close eye on them.”

Fornell drew in a deep breath before interrupting, “Jethro, they could have tampered with evidence. We already have next to nothing on this case then you go and jeopardize a scene possibly connected by letting them process it?”

“What would you have done, Tobias? They already know he’s missing. They were there when those damned photos were delivered. If I were to pull them off that case _after_ having overheard Tony’s name and seeing that ID they would have definitely become suspicious.” 

He wanted to rail at his friend, to scream at him, but couldn’t bring himself to do so. No, this situation was noticeably upsetting for him. For Gibbs to be showing even that much emotion warned him to tread lightly and not push. Drawing in another calming breath he settled on softly inquiring, “How much of my case has been compromised?”

Tension slowly began to ease out of his shoulders as he answered honestly, “The only thing my agents know for certain, Tobias, is that his ID was found at the scene. Abby knows to thoroughly check all evidence for any signs of tampering and to censor what she reveals to them. Ducky, though he hasn’t been informed, suspects that something _is_ going on.”

Vance spoke up then, “How do you know Doctor Mallard suspects something?”

Focusing on his Director he responded, “After showing him the ID he quietly assured me that he was certain they wouldn’t tamper with the evidence. He may not know what exactly is going on, but he’s aware enough…”

“To be cautious. Good, that’s at least something.”

Fornell attempted to shift the discussion asking, “What did you find?”

“Call came in around 15:30, local teens reported the body. There wasn’t much: skeletal remains, abandoned car…looked like the body had been there several months.”

“Would match with the Intel we have on DiNozzo and his disappearance.”

“Ducky was able to determine that our victim is most likely female and was likely shot in the head. There’s evidence that the body has been moved more than once. Fluid was found on both the driver and passenger seats, the substance appears to be blood. The passenger side window was shattered…”

Fornell interrupted Gibbs’ rehashing of the scene then, “Think it’s what we suspected?”

“Trap and grab, we won’t know more until Abby’s done going over the vehicle.”

“Identity of the victim?”

“Unknown as of yet.”

“And your agents?”

“Have them tracking leads, Ziva’s running down the plates to see if she can find the owner, McGee’s doing background on the asylum and tracking down witnesses. I told him once he found me something to report to Abby’s lab and start working on the broken cell.”

“Broken cell?”

“Found a broken phone wedged under the driver’s seat, looked like it was lodged there with some force.”

“You think it belongs to DiNozzo?”

“Don’t know. I told Abby to see if she could pull anything off of it. She hasn’t started on it yet.”

Vance questioned, “Do we know for a fact that DiNozzo was in that car?”

Gibbs sighed in frustration before replying, “Not yet. The only evidence we have indicates that he _could_ have been, but nothing concrete.”

“What do we have that places him in or near it?”

“Just his wallet, sir.”

Fornell interrupted then, “And as we are now fairly certain that DiNozzo’s home was a staged crime scene we have to believe that they may have also staged this.”

“Or the vehicle is the actual scene of the crime,” suggested Leon.

“Either way we can’t confirm anything until we have viable proof that Agent DiNozzo was in that car, and as of right now we don’t.”

Nodding Vance directed, “Agent Gibbs, I want you to check with your people to see if they found anything. Once you speak with them meet me in the Evidence Garage. I doubt Miss Scuito will be done with that car before then.”

“Director, I wasn’t able to brief her on the case yet.”

“When Fornell informed me that you were called to a crime scene I brought her to my office and filled her in.”

“Good.”

“I’ll brief Balboa’s team then check in with Doctor Mallard. Agent Fornell you can check up on our girl, see if she found anything. We’ll all meet up in the Evidence Garage.”

Agreeing they all turned to exit halting when Vance addressed, “Gentlemen, we need to be even more cautious with how we proceed. Any wrong move could jeopardize this case. Remember that we have two agents presently under investigation for suspected ties to an agent’s disappearance. All they know is that Agent DiNozzo didn’t disappear voluntarily and that we have received proof of life. As of right now the only people who know what’s actually going on are those in this room, Balboa’s team, Abigail Scuito and Jimmy Palmer. We need to keep it that way. Doctor Mallard may suspect there is more going on but as of right now he is also to be kept unaware. Dismissed.”

Fornell exited first. Hearing his approach McGee glanced up noticing that Agent Fornell was now studying him intently. Puzzled by the intense stare he opened his mouth to ask a question when Fornell simply inclined his head before disappearing onto the elevator. 

Now thoroughly unnerved Tim swept his eyes around the room halting and swallowing hard when he caught sight of Ziva’s questioning glance. As an awkward silence descended between them he quickly strove to eliminate it by muttering, “He makes me nervous, okay?”

She cocked her head slightly to the right responding with a relaxed, “Okay, McGee.”

Huffing in frustration and still feeling uncomfortable he began to drum his fingers against his desk. Feeling eyes on him again he looked up, only to catch Ziva again staring at him intently. Arching a brow inquisitively she slid her gaze to his fingers. Instantly he stopped the movement and uttered a quick, “Uh sorry,” before refocusing on his work. Ziva, meanwhile, watched him several more moments, shaking her head before returning to her own work.

Next to surface from Director Vance’s office was the Director and Gibbs, chatting quietly before Gibbs veered off heading for his own desk while Vance continued towards the elevator. Once the elevator doors closed Gibbs settled behind his desk and focused intently on McGee, who responded by again swallowing hard and immediately dropping his gaze.


	10. Discoveries

_NCIS Headquarters – MCRT Bull Pen_

As Gibbs exited the Director’s office he spoke quietly once again voicing his concerns regarding his team and missing agent. Together they made their way to the bull pen where Vance veered off and Gibbs approached. He needed to get an update from his team so without further hesitation settled behind his desk and pinned McGee with an expectant look. Instead of starting his debriefing he lowered his gaze as if intimidated or afraid. Not liking the internal warnings those actions were setting off within he snapped, “You have something for me, Agent McGee?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Standing he picked up his tablet and the controller then depressed a button. A photo showing a side view of a lengthy two-story brick building appeared on the screen with a notation that said ‘Building – opened in 1927’ handwritten at the bottom. He then proceeded, “This is one of the many buildings of Forest Haven Asylum. The campus sits on 250 acres of land and contains over thirty buildings. It was one of the governments best kept secrets. Has a rather dark history: abuse of patients, suspicious deaths, often understaffed and overcrowded with unsanitary conditions. Doors opened in 1925. It was a treatment facility for mentally ill and handicapped children. Here they were taught the necessary skills to survive on their own: life skills, job skills and the like. In the 60’s funding started to dry up which led quickly to its downfall. The place fell into ill favor and quickly deteriorated. The quality of treatment began to rapidly decline. Residents started dying, reports of abuse began to circulate as well as stories of some inmates being subjected to medical experiments. Place was shut down in 1991. The only activity in or around the campus since has been at the elementary school, the detention center and with the local populace.”

“Anything on how someone could leave an abandoned car there without notice, McGee?”

“The campus is fairly isolated, only one main road in or out. The only other buildings near the crime scene is the elementary school, which has perimeter fencing, and the detention center. It would be fairly easy to drive a vehicle in and drop it off with no one the wiser.”

“The local LEO’s said there are guards stationed on the property and security drives through every two hours.”

“Other sources cite that the guards are lax, can often be bought off, or will accept borderline credible stories before allowing access to the campus itself. There’s also the shared access road with the juvenile center. Local teens commonly sneak onto the grounds as well. Reports of trespassing and disturbances are common. The fact that it’s part of an active army base doesn’t seem to be much of a deterrent. The asylum itself sits on a fairly isolated area of the base and is not presently being used for anything. The only occupied buildings seem to be the newer Zigler Elementary School and the Maya Angelou Academy, which is the youth detention center. Most trespassers don’t make it beyond the chapel before they are stopped and ordered to leave. They also tend to avoid going near the garage most likely due to its close proximity to the elementary school.”

“Good job, Tim. Ziva what have you got for me?”

Standing up she took the controller from McGee and clicked the button bringing up the image of a driver’s license before starting, “The car is registered to an Amanda Ryder. She was a nurse at Bethesda Naval Hospital, reported missing over three months ago by concerned co-workers when she did not show up for work the evening of March 8th. Apparently she is not one to miss work, rarely calls out and has never been absent without prior notice. On the night of her disappearance she had informed them that she would be late.”

“Did she give them a reason why?”

Ziva focused on Gibbs before continuing, “She was doing a favor for a friend.”

“A friend?”

McGee interrupted, “Could it have been Tony?”

Both agents turned to focus on him. Gibbs continued, “Do we know what the favor was or who she was doing it for?”

“No. When I questioned them about it I was told that she was a very private person who spoke little of her life outside of work.”

“Ziva…”

“I will continue to make inquiries.”

“McGee, witnesses?”

“None of them reported seeing anything odd or abnormal around the garage. They confirmed what the police told us.”

“Local hangout for teens.”

“Yeah, apparently there has also been several incidences of defacement of the buildings and attempts to breach school grounds. Several vehicles have been reportedly broken into since the elementary school became a fixture on the campus. Other than that not much else. The guards say it’s not uncommon for people to simply drive through the grounds with no set destination in mind.”

Ziva contended, “They are curious.”

“Yes.”

“Ziva, I need you to find out if any of our victim’s co-workers knew who she was meeting that night. I also want you to check out her house. Canvas the area. See if we can find a suspect, a motive, a reason why someone would have wanted her dead and why she ended up so far from home.”

McGee interrupted, “Well that’s easy, boss. She knew Tony.”

Irritation briefly lit his face before he masked it asking, “Did she now? You just happen to know that she and Tony were friends, McGee?”

“Well not exactly, boss, I just assumed…”

“You _assumed_? Tell me since when do we make factual statements based on assumption?”

“Uh we don’t it’s just…”

Aggravated now Gibbs settled on simply stating, “McGee.”

“Sorry boss.”

Ignoring the apology he snapped, “Start going over our security tapes.”

“Security tapes?”

“Of the Navy yard, McGee, see if we can find our car or Tony on them. Look for anything out of the ordinary.”

“Boss that’s hours of video. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Try February and the beginning of March, McGee.”

“Boss?”

“The nurse disappeared on March 8th. Tony as well. We have no idea if the two are connected, so I need you to go through those tapes. See if we can find a connection. See if her car is on one those tapes. See if she may have picked Tony up that night. See if anyone was watching Tony or camped out in our lot. _Investigate_ McGee.”

“Boss we don’t even know…”

“His wallet was in the car, Tim. We may not have proof that Tony was, but we do know that his ID was so start with the tapes.”

“Uh right. On it boss.”

Sighing he picked up his phone to inquire about collecting the security tapes grumbling practically the whole time. Gibbs glowered at him feeling a sudden overwhelming urge to slap him. Shaking his head he refocused on Ziva suggesting, “Go investigate the house, and take one of Fornell’s men with you.”

She halted staring at him in question as he continued, “We’re conducting a joint investigation with the FBI.”

“A joint investigation?”

“You have a problem with that?”

“No, but…why?”

Glaring at his young agent she quickly answered her own question, “Right, missing federal agent, their jurisdiction.”

“Very good David. Now find me something! I’ll be with Ducky.”

As Gibbs stormed away McGee looked over at Ziva who sternly questioned, “What is the matter, McGee?”

“Nothing I just…”

Scowling at him she stated, “You are still angry with him.”

“What? Who?”

“It was not his fault, McGee. It is time for you to put your anger aside and accept that. He did not leave us willingly, and you are not at fault for believing so. Forgive yourself and get passed whatever has you in such a snitch.”

“Snit, Ziva. It’s snit.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

She was relieved when one of Fornell’s men approached her to introduce himself, “Agent David, I’m Agent Ferris. My boss sent me up here to help you investigate a house?”

“Right, yes.” Extending her hand in greeting she continued, “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Ignoring the gesture he briskly demanded, “Talk to me.”

Caught off guard by his inaction and conduct she dropped her hand answering, “Our victim’s name is Amanda Ryder. She lives in Forest Heights, Maryland. She was a nurse at Bethesda.”

“Let’s go.”

This time he turned abruptly away from her and headed for the elevator. She had to actually rush to catch up with him just barely squeezing between the elevator doors before they closed. As she settled to his left she noticed that he didn’t even acknowledge her presence or apologize for not holding the door. Instead he stood stock still his face an emotionless mask. Unsure of what to make of his actions she settled on focusing instead on their mission.

McGee watched from his desk feeling somewhat angry and irritated with himself and with his co-workers. Shaking his head he returned his focus to tracking down security footage of the Navy yard for the months of February and March, aware that it was going to be a very long night.

**

_NCIS Headquarters - Autopsy_

Entering autopsy Gibbs approached Ducky who was presently examining the body they had found. He questioned, “Got anything for me, Ducky?”

“Ah Jethro, just in time. I have determined that the hole in the skull is indeed from a bullet. She was shot at close range, execution style. It was most likely the kill shot. As for the grooving I discovered earlier on the left clavicle, it is consistent with that of a bullet having grazed bone.”

“Not a knife?”

“Edges aren’t defined enough, a blade would make a finer cut then a grazing bullet. From the location of the carving I’d say that she was shot at a distance…”

“Shot while running, perhaps?”

“It would be consistent with my findings, and Abby’s assumption that someone had fled from the vehicle.”

“Haven’t been to Abby yet, Duck.”

“Well why ever not?”

“Joint case, Vance and Fornell are already there so I decided to check in with you first.”

“I see. Well, I can tell you she was female, early to mid-thirties and was in relatively good health. The length of the long bones indicates that she was approximately 5 foot 4 inches, about 130 pounds and was fairly active. Other than that I am afraid there is not much else I can tell you at this moment.”

“We believe her to be an Amanda Ryder, a nurse from Bethesda, went missing several months ago.”

“Is she the owner of the car?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll have to confer with dental records to confirm it.”

“You have a time of death for me yet, Duck?”

“Difficult to discern. The body, however, is a little over four months old.”

“So March or April? Consistent with when Amanda Ryder went missing.”

“Oh?”

“Reported missing the night of March 8th…”

“Early spring, matches with the date Tony went missing. Interesting coincidence, don’t you think?”

Gibbs eyed him intently before softly replying, “Yeah, I know Duck, and you know how I feel about those.”

“Jethro…”

Walking towards the elevator he turned back and informed, “Heading down to Abby. Keep me posted.”

“Will do,” replied Ducky before returning his focus to the body before him addressing, “Well, my dear we may have discovered who you are. Now we must confirm it and find out just who did this awful thing to you. Ah but not to worry yourself, Gibbs is very good at what he does. He will figure it out.”

Nodding he continued to work hoping that he could find something more that could explain just what had happened to land her on his autopsy table.

**

_NCIS Headquarters - Evidence Garage_

Entering the elevator Gibbs tilted his head back, glancing at the ceiling. The woman was reported missing on the same day as his agent was. Were the two connected? His gut said yes but that left a whole slew of questions still unanswered. One of the biggest ones’ being if so then just how were they connected? How did Tony know Amanda Ryder, and what had actually happened the night he went missing?

Exiting the elevator he approached Vance and Fornell stopping beside them before requesting, “Abs, do you have something for us?”

Looking up from her examination of the vehicle she greeted with, “Why yes, Gibbs. We have a silver 2011 Nissan Maxima, a sporty midsize sedan with front-wheel drive, 290 horsepower, 3.5L V6 engine…”

“Abs.”

Holding up a gloved hand to halt his tirade she encouraged, “Stay with me, Gibbs. There were two different models released in 2011: the S and the SV. This is the Maxima S. Comes standard with power seats, windows, locks and mirrors. Front, side and overhead airbags. It’s equipped with means of anticipating or detecting unwanted vehicle intrusion and an ignition disable device that prevents the engine from starting unless the correct manufacturing key is used.”

Leaning over to peer at the missing window he asked, “So it would shut off automatically if a window were broken out?”

“Yes.”

Fornell continued, “And the only way to restart it would be to have the correct key?”

“Yes. As you can see the window was smashed in.”

“In Abby?”

Opening the passenger side door and indicating the broken glass she said, “Yes. Based on the direction the shards are scattered someone used a brunt object, most likely a bat, and swung it into the window hard from _outside_ the vehicle.”

“After something…”

“Or someone,” added Vance.

“In the passenger seat…,” continued Abby.

“And disabling the ignition...”

“In the process, yes. I pulled the onboard computer to see if I can get anything off of it, but won’t know more until I have the chance to go over it.”

Gibbs nodded interrupting with, “You said it’s equipped with airbags, Abby?”

“Yes front, side and overhead to be exact.”

Cocking his head as he examined both the dashboard and ceiling he asked, “Why didn’t they go off when the window was broken out?”

“If it were by a brunt object the car’s security would have viewed it as a break in thus disabling the ignition. The airbags would only eject if the system had detected an actual collision.”

“Can we get a time off of the onboard computer system?” asked Fornell. Looking at Gibbs he offered, “It might give us a more accurate time frame than we already have.”

“I’m hoping I can, but again it…”

“Will take time?”

She nodded.

“Anything else you can tell us, Abs?” inquired Director Vance.

“Not much. I’m still going over the car itself. The exterior shows some minor damage but nothing of significance. The tires are fully intact and there are no other markings on the car, nothing to indicate it had been in any sort of accident.”

“So she was forced off the road?”

“Possibly.” 

Pointing to the tires she continued “There’s evidence on the passenger side tires of mud that’s not present on the driver’s side. Other than that not much else.”

Fornell asked, “No other evidence of external damage of any sort, Miss Scuito?”

Turning to focus on him she offered a conspiratorial smile before pointing towards the driver’s side of the vehicle replying, “I knew you were going to ask that…” then walked around the front of the vehicle to indicate a slight buckle on the door panel, “There’s an indentation here that’s a bit…odd.”

“Odd?” he asked while approaching and lowering to study the slight dent she was pointing to.

“Well, most cars that show minimal damage to the door are scuff marks or scrapings…”

“From?”

Glancing up at Fornell she answered, “Car doors or shopping carts mostly, you know careless people who throw their doors open without looking or who just don’t care. Most cars that sustain damage in this general area can be contributed to that.”

“And this dent?”

“That’s just it, this is a _dent_ …”

“Abby…”

“There is no indication that any paint has been chipped or has rubbed off that would be signs of a minor collision, just a dent in the door panel…”

“So?”

“The dent in this door is consistent with a body impacting it. As in someone threw the door _into_ somebody else…”

Fornell jumped in, “A distraction?”

Vance inserted, “Or an attempted escape. Our victim tried to get away.”

“Yes.”

Gibbs requested, “Anything else, Abby?”

“Running tests on the substance found on both seats…and I’ve been scanning the interior for fingerprints, nothing yet. Whoever did this wiped the entire interior down before leaving the car.”

“They wiped the car down?”

“Yes but I’m hoping they may have just neglected to think of all places one could leave a fingerprint.”

“Fibers?”

“Still checking. They not only wiped it down thoroughly both inside and out but they also must have vacuumed some of the interior to eliminate attempts at finding loose hair or fiber strands.”

“Some?”

“Well yeah. While the backs of the seats and headrests have no evidence of hair or fibers there is glass all over the passenger and back seats, as well as the floor.”

“Professional?” asked Vance.

“And someone who had time,” added Fornell.

Gibbs interrupted, “But not patience…”

“Yes. They were anal about what they vacuumed yet not overly concerned with removing the pieces of glass…”

Gibbs spoke his thoughts aloud, “They weren’t worried about the seats themselves.”

“No.”

“But why?”

“Don’t know yet. I’m still examining the interior and attempting to recreate what happened.”

“Good work, Abs. Let us know if you find anything else.”

They then turned and headed towards the elevator while Abby moved to the passenger side of the car. Reaching in, she opened the glove box and began pulling items out for further examination, pausing after removing the last item when she noticed…

“WAIT!”

The group stopped and turned back to Abby who answered, “Found something!”

They quickly approached with Gibbs in the lead asking, “What do you have, Abs?”

Smiling triumphantly up at Gibbs she pointed to the glove box. Gibbs leaned in not noticing anything until he looked closer at her discovery: two obvious rows of numbers and letters were written on the bottom. Abby said, “I’m thinking there was someone in the passenger seat…and they left us a clue.”

Without thought or any proof of it Gibbs muttered, “DiNozzo…”

Vance leaned in and gazed at the notations asking, “How do you know?”

“His handwriting Leon.”

Fornell leaned in and gaped as he managed, “Son of a bitch, he left us crumbs.”

Vance quizzically addressed Gibbs, “You’re certain that’s DiNozzo’s handwriting?”

“Yeah, Leon, I’m sure.”

“Abby…”

“First line looks like a license plate number. The second I’m not sure, but it looks like it was written in a hurry.”

Vance offered, “Think that’s the plate off the car that stopped them?”

“Not sure. Abby…”

“Get pictures of this and analyze the handwriting for a confirmation.”

“Also check the other items from the glove box for possible fingerprints. If we’re lucky we’ll find something there.”

“Yes, sir.”

Vance added, “I think we need to find out if our dead girl has a connection to DiNozzo, and if she does...”

“I have McGee going through security footage from our parking lot searching for signs of Tony or the car. Ziva’s investigating her house.”

Vance pursed his lips as he questioned, “Alone?”

Fornell answered, “No, no. She’s with one of my men.”

Vance released the tense breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding as he said, “Good call,” looking again at the writings he added, “Send photos of this up to Agent McGee, have him start running them to see if he can figure out what they are…”

Abby jerked her head up the protest on the tip of her tongue before Vance continued, “Don’t tell him where they were found just that we need them traced.”

Fornell breathed a sigh of relief. 

Gibbs spoke then, “Make sure to thoroughly examine the interior Abs. If Tony was able to leave us that…”

“He may have left us something else.”

Nodding he continued, “Let us know if anything else turns up.”

“I’m on it.”

Fornell paused to repeat Gibbs earlier compliment, “Good job, Miss Scuito,” before heading towards the elevator with the other two.

Once inside the elevator Fornell prodded, “Do you really think that was DiNozzo’s handwriting or are you just hoping it is, Jethro?”

“It’s his.”

Vance interrupted, “We have no concrete proof that he was even in that car.”

“ _Yet._ Abby’s still working on it.”

Fornell released a tense breath before continuing, “Okay assuming it is his writing do you really think he would have had time to leave anything else?”

“No but it’s worth a shot.”

Vance nodded then added to the discussion, “We need to find out the connection between the two. Who knows maybe it will lead us to something more. We’re due for a break on this case.”

“Yes we are, Leon. Yes we are.”

They fell quiet continuing the rest of the ride to the main floor in silence.

**

_NCIS Headquarters – MCRT Bullpen_

As he entered the bull pen Ziva and Agent Ferris stepped off the elevator having recently returned from Amanda Ryder’s house. The two approached prompting Gibbs to look up and inquire, “Find anything?”

Ziva pulled out an evidence bag and placed it on Gibbs’ desk simply stating, “Our dead girl knew Tony.”

Looking down at the picture frame now resting face up on his desk he slowly picked it up. His eyes immediately drawn to the image of a smiling Tony with his arms wrapped casually around a pretty petite blond. He had never seen Tony with this particular woman before. He didn’t even know how his SFA would know her and that fact bothered him more than it probably should. Continuing to stare at the image of his missing agent he noticed the smile was one of ease. He was familiar with this woman and comfortable around her. Aware that Ziva was expecting a response he slowly shifted his gaze from the photograph back up to her asking, “Anything else?”

Ziva watched him with such intense concentration that she neglected to hear the question he posed, nearly startling when Agent Ferris responded, “She lived alone, worked weird hours…she didn’t socialize much. We asked about visitors. She didn’t have many, usually a man fitting Agent DiNozzo’s description and a young woman. No name on the woman.”

“Description?”

Ziva fielded that question, “Tall, brunette, about 5’9”, athletic build.”

Agent Ferris added, “One of her neighbors said that they saw her occasionally at a local café, uh Henry Soul’s Café in Oxon Hill, Maryland.”

“We stopped there on the way back. Questioned the waitresses on duty, several did recognize the photo of Amanda Ryder and mentioned having seen her with a man. They also said that she was good friends with one of the waitresses, uh Samantha Whitaker, who fits the description of our unnamed visitor.”

Ferris continued, “She usually works second shift and closes when she’s on duty. Her next scheduled work day is tomorrow.”

“Good job. Track her down. Let’s see what we have on her.”

Nodding Ziva returned to her desk and began her search while Agent Ferris went in search of his own boss to provide an update on their most recent discovery. Gibbs turned his attention towards his other agent inquiring, “McGee?”

“Um still going through surveillance tapes of the Navy yard. Nothing yet.”

His boss pinned him with an astute gaze that had him quickly amending, “But I’ll keep searching.”

“You do that, Tim.”

“Uh yes boss.”

As McGee returned his attention to his search Gibbs found himself once again looking at the photograph still sitting atop his desk of Tony and their victim. Studying the image he asked himself what had happened. Where was Tony, and how did this woman fit into it all? Was she just an innocent bystander or was she involved somehow? As his gaze settled on the relaxed, smiling face of his missing agent he was certain that she had sadly just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Tony would no doubt be extremely upset at her loss for he sensed, based on this particular image, that their friendship was much more than just surface.

****

_NCIS Headquarters – MCRT Bullpen_

_The Next Day…_

McGee sighed in frustration rubbing a hand over tired eyes as he tried to stay focused. The evening was exhausting and spending countless hours scouring security footage was not easy or fun by any sense of the imagination. It was arduous and time-consuming. What was even more disappointing is that he had yet to find _anything_ of significance. Hours of work wasted.

Shaking his head he shifted his gaze towards his female partner. She was presently sitting at her desk, head buried in her arms, obviously asleep. Though he was certain when she awoke she would be saddled with lots of aches and pains. Her position looked most uncomfortable.

Shifting his gaze to Gibbs’ desk he noted the man wasn’t there, but the sheer number of coffee cups he could see piled in his boss’ trashcan from his vantage told him that he too had not left the office that night. Rubbing his eyes again he was soon focusing to his left. His eyes combing across the oddly still space there. It was weird seeing Tony’s desk so…empty. It was an image he would never get used to. His partner should be there, cracking jokes or launching paper missiles towards the sleeping Ziva, but it was stagnant, bare, depressing. He _hated_ it. It wasn’t right, nothing was right about this situation. 

As a familiar young woman approached McGee shut the door on his depressing thoughts. He watched as she approached his female colleague’s desk acknowledging her with a greeting, “Hey Samina, how are you?”

Crescent-shaped eyes the color of burnt almond settled on him before she answered, “Apparently better than the two of you.”

“Yeah it was a long night,” he noted Ziva was now starting to awake as she slowly sat up brushing hair out of her face.

Samina continued, “New case?”

“Oh yeah and a tricky one. You?”

“Got here several hours ago, been busy. We’ve been tracking suspected terrorist cells in the Middle East. The progress is slow.”

Smiling demurely he responded, “Taking a break then?”

“For now yes. And how are you today, Agent McGee?”

“Told you to call me Tim.”

Smiling warmly she changed her address, “Tim.”

“We’ve been following leads.”

Samina nodded at him before returning her attention to his co-worker, “Hey Ziva you want to get something to eat?”

Glancing up at her friend Ziva hesitated before answering, “Um not today, Samina.”

She paused and focused intently on the Israeli noting how worried she seemed. It was obvious she had been here all night, as well as Tim, so their case must be quite a challenge. She had seen them both upon arrival and had decided to stop in to see if Ziva was interested in getting breakfast with her. It was odd for her to refuse. They had made a habit of it several months ago, going out for lunch or the occasional breakfast. They had history having worked together many years ago in Israel and had since become good friends. They had lost touch for a time until Ziva was brought in as a liaison by Director Sheppard. When she had heard about it she sought her out wanting to reconnect with her old friend again. After approaching her they had started talking, making lunch plans and became closer. The initial meeting led to the closer relationship they now shared. She now knew Ziva well enough that she could tell almost instantly that something was indeed amiss. Something was bothering her friend, distracting her. She had noticed how quickly their new case was consuming her. It’s the main reason she made a point to stop by, to invite her to breakfast. She had watched her friend after she returned with that FBI agent the previous evening. Ziva had sat in front of her computer and remained there. She, herself had left around midnight, only to come in this morning and see Ziva was still at her desk obviously asleep, obviously having not gone home at all the night before. When Ziva got like this she neglected everything else. She needed to pull her friend away from work and find out what was going on. Since Ziva was refusing to do so she was left with confronting her here, “Ziva, what is wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. We just have a lot of work to do.”

“That usually doesn’t stop you. What has changed? Tim said that you are on a new case?”

Ziva stared anxiously at her computer screen, clicking it on as her friend continued, “And you are obviously distracted.”

Glimpsing briefly at her Ziva offered a strained reply of, “Um no, no. I am not distracted. It is just a tricky case.”

Samina continued to watch scrutinizing her features for clues. She was not fine despite what she was saying. Why was her friend suddenly being so evasive? Determined to get her to take a break, as she was now certain the woman hadn’t in several hours she attempted to persuade her again, “Ziva, come to breakfast with me. You’ve obviously been here all night. It’s time to take a break, get something to eat. It will only be for an hour or so. Please?”

Ziva sensing eyes on her glanced up answering, “I am fine. I am just busy.”

“When did you eat last?”

“I have eaten.”

“When? Yesterday?”

“I had a…snack earlier.”

“A snack?” Shaking her head she softened her voice urging, “Come on, Ziva. You need to eat, especially since you…”

Slamming her hand down on her desk she snapped, “I am fine. I do not need a break. I need to be working. I need to find…” Shaking her head she snarled, “I need to be _here_ , Samina. Please understand that.”

Sighing in frustration she simply replied, “You are worrying about him again, aren’t you?”

“Do not be ridiculous.”

“Come on, Ziva. He left months ago. Isn’t it about time for you to move on? Obviously he has.”

“It is time for me to get back to work. Now if you do not mind…”

Raising her hands in the air before her in a surrendering gesture she responded, “Okay. Okay. I’ll back off. It’s just that, well, I am worried Ziva. I have not seen you this… _focused_ since before he left the agency.”

“Tony did not…” she immediately clamped her mouth shut aware that she almost revealed more than she wanted to. Drawing in a deep, soothing breath she slowly raised her eyes to her friends’ before amending, “I am fine. Perhaps we shall get something to eat at a later date?”

Wanting to argue further but knowing it would get her nowhere she nodded and made her way briskly to the elevator. 

Ziva turned her focus to her research tensing when she felt other eyes watching her. Snapping her head up, she glared across the room demanding, “What McGee?”

Opening his mouth and closing it several times he soon settled on calmly answering, “Nothing, Ziva.”

She glowered at him before returning her focus to her work. McGee, meanwhile, slowly released the tense breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding. He could only remain silent for a short while before saying, “It’s not her fault, you know.”

Jerking her head up, she demanded, “What, McGee?”

“Samina… It’s not her fault.”

“What is not her fault?”

“That he’s missing, that we can’t find him, that we have no idea where he is.”

Slamming both hands down on her desktop this time she demanded, “He? Who?”

Tim shook his head gentling his voice as he continued, “I know you’re worried about him, but biting off the head of a friend who’s simply trying to help…”

“ _What_ is your problem, McGee?”

Sighing in frustration he answered, “Nothing. I just… She asked you to go to breakfast, and you practically jumped down her throat for it. She didn’t deserve that. She doesn’t even know that he’s missing. She thinks he quit, that he willingly left the agency. She doesn’t…look what I’m trying to say is that she’s your friend, and she’s only trying to help.”

Lowering her gaze she pursed her lips before saying, “Perhaps you are right. I will have to apologize to her when she returns.”

Tim smiled softly as he responded, “I’m sure she understands, but an apology can’t hurt.”

Nodding she returned her focus to her screen before offering a sincere, “Thank you.”

McGee nodded then returned his focus to his computer screen as well. Aware that whether Ziva realized it or not her refusal to allow her friend to help had ended up hurting her. Ziva didn’t have many friends, and Samina’s friendship has been good for her. After Tony left Ziva had practically shut down. Her coping skills, for lack of a better term, was to put all her energy into working cases. She didn’t allow herself to properly deal with his absence and so she had isolated herself. She was impatient, easily angered and distracted. He often wondered if she had blamed herself for Tony leaving. When it was discovered that he hadn’t willingly left it damned near tore her apart. Samina was there to support her and help her through it. She didn’t know what was happening with Ziva, and had no knowledge of recent events since they had been ordered not to speak about it. Vance was keeping a tight lid on Tony’s disappearance, said it was an FBI case and they were not to discuss it. He, of course, wanted to know why that was but tried not to dwell on it while Ziva? Ziva said little, reacted even less and kept things to herself. The only person who seemed to have the ability to draw her out of her present funk was Samina Kahlil, an old friend from Israel. She helped Ziva a lot more than his partner would admit. Ziva was lucky to have her. He kind of wished he had someone like her as well.

It was about an hour later that McGee heard the rapid approach of two people, looking up it was unsurprising to see both Agent Fornell and his boss. Gibbs focused on him as he asked, “You got something for us, McGee?”

Nodding he responded with, “Been going through the security tapes like you asked.”

“Find anything?”

McGee held up a remote and hit play before continuing, “On March 8th at approximately 15:30 a silver 2011 Nissan Maxima is seen pulling into the Visitor’s lot. Two minutes later Tony is seen approaching, offering a greeting then climbing into the vehicle…”

“He was the passenger.”

“Yes and…”

Noticing that Tony first opened the back door before returning to climb into the vehicle he snapped, “McGee take it back to when DiNozzo first approaches the car. There. Zoom in.”

Gibbs watched intently as his agent first leaned down to address the driver before opening the back door and…

“There, freeze that.”

Complying McGee stated, “Boss he’s putting something in the back seat.”

Ziva spoke up then, “His jacket. It was draped over his left arm when he approached.”

“His jacket. Fornell!”

Fornell who had been watching quietly from the sidelines immediately started to place a call saying, “I’m on it, arranging for two agents to report to the house.”

“And while they’re at it have your agents bag the other items we found there. Wouldn’t hurt to have Abby go over them again…”

“Double checking my work, Gibbs?”

“Nah just being thorough.”

“Right.”

Gibbs then returned his focus to the tape and McGee resumed play confused by the exchange he had just witnessed. He then continued, “We have him leaving the Navy yard at approximately 15:32…"

“Drive time to his house on a normal day minus traffic is approximately forty-two minutes. McGee…”

“Yeah boss?”

“Start going over his possible routes home. See if we can narrow it down, figure out which direction he headed. Once we know the route he took we can go over it to see where he might have been stopped.”

“Think they were tailed then forced off the road, boss?”

Gibbs spoke voice tight, “Find out where they could’ve been boxed in….”

“Satellite feeds will give us a basic layout of the area, but without knowing exactly which route he took it’ll take time.”

“Try to narrow the search down to areas along each of those possible routes where someone could be ambushed. Once we have those areas triangulated we can go investigate. Perhaps we’ll find something there.”

“But boss that’s a lot of ground to cover, and it’s been over four months. The chances of any evidence remaining is…”

The glare he received had Tim shutting up as he drew in a calming breath settling on a simple, “On it boss!”

Turning towards his right Gibbs inquired, “Ziva, what have you found on our waitress?”

“Her name is Samantha Whitaker, college student, pre-med…”

“Probably how she knew our dead nurse.”

“She has no priors, never been in trouble with the law. She did have a brush about a year ago when she filed charges against a Gregory Tomin for assault. She has a PFA lodged against him, and he is presently serving time in prison. She works mostly evenings at Henry’s Soul Café, and usually closes for the night.”

“We’ll need to interview Miss Whitaker later this afternoon. For now I want you helping McGee to figure out what route Tony took home that night. We need to know what happened, and we need to find out just where this woman died.”

“Gibbs, where am I to begin?”

“Start by compiling a list of all possible routes between Tony’s house and the Navy yard.”

“Tony’s house…”

He interrupted, “In White Plains, Maryland,” watching as her eyes widened in surprise. Aware that she was never informed that he had moved. He then continued, “I’m heading down to check on Abby, see if she’s made any more progress. Fornell, when your agents get back have those items sent to Abby right away.”

“Will do. While you’re checking with Miss Scuito I’m going to update your Director.”

Nodding the two headed in opposite directions while Ziva and McGee focused their attention on tracking down Tony’s and the nurse’s whereabouts on the night of March 8th. Once the two older agents were gone Ziva asked, “Did you know?”

Tim looked over at his partner puzzled. She continued, “That Tony moved?”

“Oh uh no, no. Didn’t talk to him much towards the…um, before he.”

Nodding she commented, “Neither did I. I believe that was a mistake on our part.”

Distracted now Tim questioned, “Mistake?”

“We did not support him as we should have.”

“What?” demanded a now flustered Timothy McGee. Ziva eyed him suspiciously before saying, “You are upset by what I have just said.”

Aggravated now he answered, “No, no, just… We need to find this route, is all…”

“You feel guilty, McGee?”

“Guilty? No.”

“You do.”

Sighing in frustration he responded, “Okay maybe a little but… We’re fixing it now. We’ll find him. Get him back here and everything will go back to normal again.”

Ziva tensed as she responded, “I do not see how things can ‘go back to normal’ as you say, after what we have done.”

Instead of responding or adding to her comment he returned his focus to the satellite map he was now perusing hoping that by channeling his focus on discovering the route his partner had taken the night he had disappeared he could forget the anger and guilt that was presently choking him.

** 

_NCIS Headquarters – Abby’s Lab_

Making sure to grab a fresh Calf-Pow in route to Abby he tried to push his doubts aside. He didn’t want to think of just how dangerous it was having two questionable people on this investigation. His gut still screamed they weren’t involved but that did little for his piece of mind. Tony’s disappearance had him seriously worried and the more they discovered the worse he felt. He tried to quiet his mind as it attempted to taunt him with scenarios of just what his SFA was presently going through. He couldn’t think about it, not now. Now his focus needed to be on finding out what _had_ happened to Tony and how the abduction was pulled off. He couldn’t think of anything else, least of all the sheer amount of time that had already been wasted by his refusal to accept that Tony hadn’t quit. He should have felt something, been aware that _something_ was wrong, but he’d ignored all his base instincts channeling them into anger and spite. He only hoped that Tony wouldn’t pay dearly for that error. 

Entering the forensics lab his thoughts immediately dispersed as a rapid, “Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!” assailed him. Approaching the over-excited Goth he asked, “What is it, Abby?”

“I checked the interior of the glove box and the items within. They were what you’d normally expect to find: insurance card, registration, vehicle manual, things like that and guess what?”

“Abs?”

“Come on guess.”

Gibbs focused intently on her waiting. Abby tugged his arm and pulled him over to the center of her lab before continuing, “Well, not only did I find our mystery writings, which were written in permanent black marker by the way, I also found two distinct sets of prints,” she was veritably vibrating as she continued, “One set was on the papers in the box. AFIS is still searching for a match. I’m guessing they belong to the owner of the vehicle. The second set was on the underside of the plastic bag the vehicle manual was held in, a full left thumbprint defined enough that I was able to run it.”

Forcing himself not to jump to conclusions or get his hopes up he asked, “We get any hits, Abs?” 

“Oh did we ever, found a match almost immediately.”

Noting she was now both extremely tense and a bit nervous he softly inquired, “Who?”

Drawing in a shaky breath and standing up straighter she turned to her screen and hit the button to bring up the image saying, “Our thumbprint belongs to…”

Staring intently at the image now displayed he finished her statement, “NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo…puts him in that car, Abs.”

A new voice from the door interrupted, “And tells us that the car is most likely our _real_ crime scene, Jethro.”

Turning he noticed that his friend was just as tense as he was and managed, “Yep.”

Returning his attention to Abby he continued, “Good work, Abs.”

She offered a shaky smile her anxiety over Tony’s disappearance evident as she continued, “Now we just have to fit the pieces together.”

Silence fell between them for several moments before being interrupted by Tobias’s suggestion, “The broken window…” as he approached and stopped to Gibbs right now also gazing at the screen.

Prompted by that comment, Abby directed their attention to her computer mockup of the scene, “I studied the patterns and trajectory of the glass fragments. They sprayed over both the passenger seat and the back seat, some pieces were even beneath the driver’s seat. Pulling in other data like the location of the phone and path the glass fragments took I’ve come up with this as the most probable.”

Pointing to the video clip she played it. The image showed a figure approaching from the rear of the vehicle with a bat in his hands. It proceeded to show the trajectory of the bat and the impact on the passenger side window. She paused it when the figure in the passenger seat stopped in his side momentum to shield himself from flying glass and continued, “Tony’s fingerprint places him in the passenger seat at the time of the attack so factoring in his build and height let’s rerun the scenario.”

As she did they could see just how a phone could have lodged itself under the driver’s side seat. Gibbs asked, “Did you pull anything off of that phone?”

“Tony’s prints were all over it. It was his phone. Last call made was to an Amanda Ryder on March 8th at approximately 15:23pm.”

Fornell turned to Gibbs saying, “The night of his disappearance…”

“And the name of our dead nurse...”

“Combined with what Agent McGee just found on the security tapes I’d say we have our proof, Gibbs. Proof that your agent was in that car on the night they _both_ disappeared.”

Gibbs nodded in response studying the image on the computer screen before questioning, “The substance on the passenger seat, Abs?”

“Blood.”

“Tony’s?”

“No. It belongs to our victim. The substance on the driver’s seat is also blood and also matches our victim.”

Fornell added, “Ducky did say that the body had been moved more than once.”

“But why put her in the passenger seat at all?”

Fornell shrugged his shoulders answering, “Maybe she was dead before the car was dropped off at the garage.”

“Maybe. Abs anything on the writing?”

“Analyzed it and compared it to previous handwriting samples. It’s a match, Gibbs. It was Tony who wrote that message in the glove box.”

“Do we know what it is yet?”

“First one was a license plate that belonged to a stolen car…”

Fornell interrupted, “Kidnappers probably stole it to use in the abduction. Then later ditched it.”

“The second one we’re still trying to figure out. It’s an odd combination of letters and numbers that seems to make no sense…”

Wrapping an arm around her and brushing a light kiss across Abby’s right temple he reassured, “Tony left that message for us and knew that you would be the one to find it. You’ll figure it out, Abs.”

Nodding she continued to stare up at the paused scenario saying, “I haven’t had the chance to examine his wallet yet, that’s next on my list.”

Noting the direction of her gaze he followed it suddenly questioning, “Only one broken window. Why?”

After several moments of reanalyzing what they had so far discovered Fornell broke the silence with, “Their target wasn’t the driver. It was Tony.”

“And he knew it.”

Inhaling deeply Fornell continued, “We had a runner.”

“What?” Abby asked.

“Our driver.”

“But…how?”

“Tony,” answered Gibbs.

“I don’t understand.”

Fornell settled on stating, “They wiped down the car, but missed a few places.”

Gibbs pointed to the second set of fingerprints still running through AFIS as he continued, “The two sets of fingerprints in the glove box. One set belongs to Tony and I bet that set…” Pausing in the middle of his statement he recalled an odd detail from the vehicle in their evidence garage. Something was tugging at his memory, “The side mirror…”

“What?”

“The side mirror, remember? It’s angled sharply towards the back of the vehicle.”

Recalling that fact Fornell added, “As if he were _watching_ someone.”

“He was. They were attacked from behind, one on each side. The attacker on the passenger side had a bat, one on the driver’s side didn’t. They _knew_ that Tony was in that car.”

“And they knew he was in the passenger seat.”

“He told her to run.”

“Knew he was their intended target…”

Nodding Gibbs continued, “Probably told her to wait until they broke out his window to strike.”

“Timed distraction delays them long enough for her to make her escape.”

“She did but she wasn’t fast enough.”

“They caught up.”

“We have ourselves another crime scene.”

“Yeah but where?”

“I have Ziva and McGee presently searching for which route they took that night. If we can confirm their direction of travel and figure out their route…”

“You’re trusting _Agent McGee_?”

“You were there with me, Tobias. Could have said something.”

“Right. I’ll have one of my men stay with them once they get back from DiNozzo’s house.”

“Tony’s house?” interrupted Abby.

“When we reviewed the security tapes we noticed that the jacket Tony had that day somehow mysteriously ended up at his house when it should have been on the back seat of the vehicle we have downstairs.”

“So you’re thinking they took it with them to stage the fake crime scene.”

“Yes.”

Returning to their previous discussion about policing Gibbs’ two junior agents Fornell added, “I’ll pair McGee with Carroll. Have him keep a close eye on your boy. Ferris has been observing Miss David. Want me to inform the Director too?”

“Probably better, the team’s already acting suspicious. If we give them more to question they’re liable to bail and then we’ll be left with nothing.”

“Have any idea which of your people is the mole?”

Gibbs looked at Abby then focused intently on Tobias answering, “Honestly I don’t think either of them are involved.”

“Not even now?”

“They’re too worried, too concerned about Tony.”

“Could be an act.”

“Damned good one, Fornell.”

“To be a spy they’d have to be damned good, Jethro.”

“Yeah.”

“What does your gut tell you?”

“They’re both innocent, that someone’s playing us, framing them to cause turmoil, and plant seeds of doubt.”

“Who would want to do that?”

Gibbs tensed, hesitating to voice his thoughts on the topic, after several moments he settled on simply answering, “The one who wants me to suffer, Fornell. Think about it. They abduct Tony, hold him captive for months before informing us that he has been missing the whole time by sending photos as proof of life. Now they plant seeds of doubt among my team and me to cause more tension and friction. Next they’ll probably plant evidence to incriminate one of us and then they’ll make their final play.”

“Gibbs if what you’re suggesting could be even remotely true…”

“Then the mole is a hell of a lot deeper than either of us realize and has probably been in place for several years.”

“You’re thinking a sleeper?”

“At this moment, I have no idea what to think but I find it a bit too coincidental that the moment my Senior Field Agent voices concerns he vanishes and my team becomes accused of being the ones to set it up.”

“Does seem a bit…”

“Unusual, Tobias?”

“Yeah a bit.”

Nodding he addressed Abby next, “Keep running those fingerprints against the AFIS database even though we’re certain they belong to Amanda Ryder. We still need a confirmation. When Fornell’s agents return with the items from Tony’s house I want you to run them all as if they’re new evidence. Maybe we can find something that the FBI didn’t, also check Tony’s primary weapon. Fornell said no shots were fired from it, and the only prints on it were his. How that gun disappeared from the real crime scene to the lock box in Tony's house is still not known. The thumbprint places Tony in that vehicle, therefore his weapon should have also been there or should have turned up missing. It just...something's not right.”

“And what about his backup...?"

Fornell answered that question, "Still unaccounted for."

Gibbs added, "And _that_ is still being kept quiet, Abs."

"Got it.”

Drawing her into his arms he held her tight as he pressed a kiss to her forehead asking, “How are you holding up, Abs?”

“Okay just really worried.”

“Yeah me too, me too.”

“We gotta find him Gibbs.”

Pulling back he gently cupped her face between his hands as he reassured, “And we will, okay?”

She nodded, lowering her gaze to the floor as she blinked the tears out of her eyes. Gibbs continued softly assuring, "Hey, you hang in there, okay Abs? We'll get him back. I promise you.”

In answer she wrapped her arms firmly about herself her voice hitching as she managed, "They're hurting him, Gibbs. I just know they are."

Drawing in a calming breath he tugged her into his arms holding her tightly, lifting his gaze towards the ceiling as if in silent prayer his voice cracking as he continued, "You just have to have faith, Abby. We'll find him, and we'll bring him home. You _have_ to believe that. Okay?"

Body slumping against him she answered, "Okay."

After holding her for several more minutes he released her saying they had to report to Vance and asking if she would be okay. Her answer was a forced smile before she approached her computer and said, "Go. Report to the Director. I have work to do."

Gibbs hesitated a moment longer before nodding to Fornell. They both left the lab determined to do anything they could to ensure Gibbs' promise was upheld. Abby, meanwhile, listened to them leave before going over to pick up Bert, wrapping her arms firmly about him as she tried to remain positive. She missed Tony and was extremely worried about him. They _had_ to find him. There was no other alternative.


	11. Game Changers

_NCIS Headquarters – MCRT Bull Pen_

Exiting the elevator she glanced to her right smiling mischievously when she saw Ziva still at her desk, this time alone. Masking her anger and irritation for being shunted previously she approached, smile broadening when the Israeli didn’t even notice her. Ziva was so focused on whatever it was she was doing that her guard was down. Waiting a moment longer she cleared her throat internally cheering when the woman jumped slightly. Her smile widening further she said, “An ex-Mossad officer letting her guard down? Your father would not approve.”

Lifting her gaze she offered a distracted, “What? Oh Samina, I uh…”

“It is rare for one to be able to, how do you say? Oh yes get the drop on you. Tell me what is it that has you so thoroughly distracted that you have permitted your mind to wander?”

“Oh uh…”

Smirking she casually walked around her desk to glance at her screen noting that the moment she did Ziva immediately clicked on the mouse as if closing her window. It would seem that she had something to hide, but what? Her curiosity peaked she leaned forward continuing, “Tell me what it is that seems to be holding all of your attention. What is it that you feel you must try to hide from me?”

“Nothing just… It’s just a case.”

“A case that perhaps is a bit _personal_?” 

Offering her the briefest of glances she turned her focus onto the pile of papers at the edge of her desk, making a show of organizing them. Far too aware that Samina saw way too much, observed way too much and had seen something that peaked her interest. She would have to be much more careful around her in the future.

Opening her mouth to reply she was cut off as Samina continued, “Is it the new one?”

“Is what the new one?”

“The case that has you so captivated?”

“No. Yes. It’s… Look, Samina, I really am busy and need to get back to work…”

“Hmm shunning me again? Well that is twice _friend_. Tell me did you often shun him?”

“Him?”

“Oh don’t play coy with me Ziva David. You know _exactly_ who I am referring to. He is all you seem to think about. Tell me, were you as obsessed with him when he was actually here as you are now?”

Anger filtered in followed quickly by the sudden urge to lash out. How dare she? Huffing in frustration she drew in a slow deep breath before turning to focus on her saying, “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be working?”

She snickered as she replied, “Or is it because he is gone and no longer poses a veritable challenge for you? Oh, Ziva, honey…”

“Would you mind? I have a lot of work to get done, and you are preventing me from completing it.”

“Relax. I’m on break and decided to check on you. No need to get all defensive and angry.”

Ziva jerked her head up gaping before snarling, “I am not angry!”

Samina teased, “Oh sure you’re not.”

What was going on? Why was her friend acting so…out of character? She sounded almost spiteful. Choosing to push the thought to the back of her mind she focused intently on her and after several moments asked, “What is wrong?”

Samina ran a hand through her hair tossing it casually over her shoulder as she answered, “Nothing. Why would you think anything was wrong?”

Ziva studied her intently before answering, “You just seem…different.”

“Different? I seem _different_? This from a woman who is seemingly obsessed with her ex-partner…”

“I am not obsessed!”

Her voice rose so loud that several people nearby turned to look at her. She quickly lowered her head and voice as she softly snapped, “I am _not_ obsessed.”

“Right.”

Ziva pursed her lips, her eye twitching as she tried to figure out what the hell Samina was doing, and why she was bringing up the past _again_. Studying her intently now she opened her mouth to reply only to be cut off, “He is gone, Ziva. You need to realize that and move on.”

Tony? Was she bringing up Tony _again_? Why? What was her issue with him? Why did she always have to twist the conversation onto the topic of Tony DiNozzo? Shaking her head in frustration she snipped, “What is it you have against him?”

Offering her an innocent glance she questioned, “Who?”

“Tony. What do you have against him?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing…? Samina, you always find a way to bring him into our conversations. Why?”

“Why? Well you do seem a bit…consumed by him, and hey let’s be honest with each other here. He was a very…” offering Ziva a salacious smile she continued, “ _Passionate_ man.”

Huffing in irritation she snapped, “You did not even know him.”

Licking her lips she continued, “Oh come now, Ziva. You cannot deny that he was a man full of fire, of strength and **power**.”

What? Pinning her with a suspicious gaze she stated, “You told me that you detested him, that he was arrogant and…”

Deliberately interrupting her mid-sentence she flippantly asked, “Hmm tell me, Ziva. What do you think it would take to break a man like him?”

_“What?”_

Her smile remained as she continued, rather enjoying winding Ziva up “Hypothetically what do you think it would take to break a man such as him?”

“I, what, why do you always do this?”

Offering an innocent smile she asked, “Oh did I just strike a nerve, friend?”

“What? No. I just…?”

“What?”

“You always take a simple conversation and somehow twist it onto him.”

“Oh are you jealous? After all you’re the one seemingly obsessed with him.”

“You…”

“I imagine he is quite… How do you say? Fiery? Yes, fiery. He’s a man of many secrets, no? It would be quite fun to peel back all those juicy layers bit by delicious bit.”

She glowered at her. Ignoring the fact that Ziva was now tense and very angry Samina continued, “It is a shame really.”

Pushing down on her anger she forced herself to calmly question, “What is a shame?”

“That he disappeared before you could find out.”

A subtle warning bell began to ring in the back of her mind as she carefully asked, “Disappeared?”

“Yes. What else would you call walking off the job never to be heard from again?” Forming a soft pout she continued, “Must hurt knowing that he didn’t even care enough to keep in touch with you.”

Ziva felt her anger spike again and this time did ball her fists resisting the urge to punch the woman in her glib face. Forcing her voice to remain neutral she bit out a tense, “You…”

“Where did he say he was going?”

“He didn’t.”

“Oh well, perhaps someone snatched him, smuggled him away to keep all for themselves…he would, no doubt, be a most pleasant challenge no?”

Not waiting for a response she offered a lascivious smile before turning and sauntering up the stairs leaving behind a Ziva filled with anger, rage, confusion and oddly enough worry. Watching her climb the stairs her mind began reviewing the words they had just exchanged. She was so focused on her thoughts that she was caught off guard when McGee appeared. He approached his desk pausing when he noticed the leery gaze in his partner’s eyes prompting him to question, “Ziva, what’s wrong?”

Blinking, she hesitantly pulled her eyes away from Samina’s retreating form and settled them on McGee as she asked in a puzzled voice, “What? What McGee?”

Cocking his head to the left in concern he questioned again, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Right.”

Drawing in a deep breath she focused intently on him hesitating only a moment before asking, “McGee, when would you say Samina started approaching me, us?”

Caught off guard by that question he halted in what he was doing before answering, “Oh uh I don’t know several years ago?”

Nodding she answered, “When Tony was undercover for Director Sheppard?”

“I guess so, yeah.”

“I do not trust her.”

“What?”

“She has far too much interest in Tony. She always has.”

Tim chuckled asking, “What? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You did not hear her just now. How she spoke of him.”

“And just _how_ did she speak of him?”

“As if he were a prize to be won, a challenge to conquer.”

“I think you’re being ridiculous.”

“No. She just asked me what it would take to break a man like him.”

“Probably teasing you, didn’t mean anything by it. Come on, Ziva, you’ve been obsessing over him since he left.”

“He did not leave.”

“We know that now, but back then…”

“McGee, what if she did?”

“Uh did? Did what?”

“Meant what she said?”

Tim openly gaped at her his mouth opening and closing like a fish before he managed, “No, Ziva I…”

“You did not hear her.”

“Nah Ziva. She’s your friend. She…”

“What if she is not?”

Confused, feeling as if he had somehow missed half the conversation McGee questioned, “What?”

“My friend, McGee. What if she is not my friend?”

“Ziva, what are you saying?”

“What if she is hiding something?”

“Then I say you should check it out. See what turns up. But seriously, Ziva, I think you’re making too much of this. You’ve been short tempered about him ever since he left. The mention of his name would have you wanting to the rip the head off of anyone nearby. In fact a lot of people started going out of their way to avoid you because of it.”

“Do not be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. You’ve been taking Tony’s absence extremely hard, Ziva. You’ve been blaming yourself and cursing him at the same time. When you found out he didn’t leave on his own you became obsessed with finding him. I’ve not seen you get up from that desk for more than a few scant minutes for _days_. We will find him eventually but pushing yourself to the point of exhaustion and beyond will not help us find him any faster.”

“I left him down, McGee. He is my partner and I failed him.”

“We, all of us, did when we believed a lie. Now? Now we’re all trying to make it right. Spending hours dwelling on should haves and could haves will drive you crazy. You can’t do that to yourself. Start focusing on the present, on what we _can_ do now and not on what we _failed_ to do then.”

Sighing in frustration she softly admitted, “You are right, McGee.”

Silence fell between them for several moments before McGee added, “And Ziva if you think that there’s something not right with your friend then look into it. See what you can find out. See if your instincts are right or not.”

Nodding she offered him a small smile as she answered, “Thank you, McGee.”

“Anytime.”

Turning to focus on his computer he was soon perusing his email quickly finding himself absorbed in trying to figure out what the strange sequence of numbers and letters meant that Abby had sent him earlier. He would return to tracking Tony’s route soon but for now he needed a break from it. He feared that by focusing so intently on the routes he might overlook something so decided a minor distraction was more than in order.

****  
_Abyei, North Sudan_

Hearing the scrape of a door across floor Tony forced his head up. Listening intently as the soft scuffing of feet was next to filter in. Apparently his captors have decided that his temporary isolation was now at an end. Aware of their subtle approach he gently gripped the bar his wrists were secured to and used it as leverage to pull himself completely upright. The simple movement sent pain ricocheting throughout his entire body, the cross suspension wreaking havoc on his arms, back and shoulder blades.

Focusing his attention on the new sounds filtering in from his left he could hear his visitor’s final approach. As the person halted, stopping directly in front of him, he swallowed passed the lump forming in his throat. He was certain that his newest visitor had never approached him before. His foot falls were heavier than his two primary interrogators, so just who the hell was he?

Closing his eyes behind the blindfold he listened intently. He could hear the man’s soft breathing and feel eyes centered on him. He wondered about the man’s intentions and tensed as he suddenly leaned in, automatically flexing numb fingers as he waited for what was to come. The person proceeded to move in closer prompting him to pull back. Within moments he could feel fingers threading through his hair and latching on before yanking his head back. His only verbal response to the action was a shallow gasping hiss as pain flared to life in his wrenched shoulders and back. Refusing to give voice to his present torment he firmly grit his teeth and bit into his lip. Within moments he could feel warm breath ghosting across his right ear combined with the body heat being generated by his assailant. He waited on edge as the person spoke quietly, “Hello, Agent DiNozzo, it’s so nice to finally make your acquaintance.”

Shit! Another bastard who knew his identity when he was kept ignorant. Swallowing hard, he forced his panic to abate opening his mouth to release a snarky retort, “Wish I could say the same.”

The man seemed amused by his response before startling him with an unexpectedly gentle pat to his face. He then continued, “I have been told that you have been very uncooperative. I have also been told that you hold an abundant wealth of knowledge.”

“Sorry to disappoint but you’ve been sadly misled.”

“Hmm, have I now?”

As a familiar voice pierced the air with a suggestion of, “Let’s say we pick your brains and find out,” he unconsciously flinched mentally cursing the reaction having not heard him enter. Pushing back on his slowly bubbling anxiety he licked his dry cracked lips unable to conceal his wince as the metallic taste of blood and salt filled his mouth before he said, “Here I thought you forgot about me.”

“Yes well we have been busy.”

“Mm…”

“Shall I introduce myself,” interrupted his newest interrogator. Instead of replying he waited as the man continued, “You may address me as kulunil.”

Tony tensed recognizing the unexpected foreign word unable to stop his response, “Ah Arabic for Colonel…what military?”

The man seemingly amused answered, “I did not know you were familiar with Arabic, Agent DiNozzo.”

“I’m not.”

His regular tormentor interrupted, “Seems you’ve been holding out on us.”

“You don’t say?”

The colonel spoke again, “A smart man would not attempt to instigate those who hold sway over them.”

In the next instant he felt a vice-like grip latch onto his throat and squeeze causing him to grunt and struggle to control his breathing. The man continued, “Are you a smart man, Agent DiNozzo?”

The hand tightened, fingers digging into already tender flesh causing him to release several haggard breaths before he was able to regain control of his breathing. The colonel casually continued, “I have been reading about you, and I believe that you have been _greatly_ underestimated.”

The fingers dug just a little bit more as he continued, “And I do believe you count on that to maintain the upper hand. You like to be underestimated, to disarm your opponents by playing a part, a role. You show them what they want to see, tell them what they want to hear. Let them believe what they want to believe. You are very good at it: misdirection, misinformation, sleight of hand.”

“Am I?”

The fingers burrowed deeper this time cutting off his air flow, and triggering his automatic instincts to reach for his throat to dislodge the present threat. As soon as he reacted new pain flared within blazing across his shoulders, back and arms as his attempts were abruptly halted. He briefly panicked before the grip loosened causing him to instantly gasp as oxygen quickly began to flood in forcing several violent coughs to erupt in response to the cool air hitting his dry parched throat. He nearly choked as he swallowed passed the fresh pain being generated by the irritated lining of his esophagus. His sole focus becoming to calm his breathing down once more. Soon he was unconsciously sweeping his tongue over his lips aware that the firm clawing grip still remained along with the excessive tension in his hair.

Regaining his complete focus his oversensitive hearing picked out a new sound prompting him to attempt to turn in that direction and bringing him up short as the hand on his throat and in his hair still remained. He listened on edge to what sounded like a cart being wheeled beside him. Continuing to focus his hearing in that direction he startled slightly when the unfamiliar voice spoke again, “Ah I see your hearing is considerably sharper. No doubt you are…curious as to what my friend has brought. No need to wonder. Your answers will come.”

As a sizzling pop erupted in combination with a sudden burnt scent assailing his nose his stomach plummeted. Oh he knew what _those_ particular items were and really didn’t want to experience his body once again being super charged by two very live wires. 

The colonel continued, “Ah you are rather familiar with that particular device, are you not Agent DiNozzo?” He didn’t respond merely kept listening for movement to his left trying to anticipate what was coming as he continued, “Of course if you were to cooperate there would be no need to use such barbaric tactics on you. We could give you a break, a reprieve... I am sure your shoulders are in desperate need of relief. I have been told you have been kept strung up for some time, so what do you say? You give us an answer or two and we can make this all go away…for a few days at least.”

He tried to bite back his retort aware of the grip still being maintained on his throat but found himself unwisely baiting the man, “Oh that’s _real_ tempting, but I’m afraid I’m gonna have to pass.”

He could feel the tension creep back into the fingers seemingly locked onto his throat. It was just enough pressure to make his throat ache. The colonel continued, “Hmm arrogance. You are either very brave or very foolish. Which is it I wonder?”

Pressing his lips firmer together he waited for the colonel to make a play only able to grunt and jerk his left foot off the floor as a live wire was suddenly applied to the top of it.

His regular interrogator said, “Ah that was only a love tap. I assure you it will soon get so much worse.”

As he felt the jolt in his other foot he grunted again clenching his teeth and pressing his lips firmer together in anticipation of more.

His attention was soon redirected back onto the colonel as he tightened his hold around his throat. Breathing through his nose he refused to react squeezing his eyes shut as the fingers sunk deeper into soft tissue and the colonel spoke in the same quiet voice, “I would suggest that you keep both feet firmly on the floor or we will be forced to aid you in successfully doing so.”

Again the sparking wires pressed this time to either side of his left foot causing him to again draw the foot away from the source of the pain. His regular tormentor spoke, voice sounding a bit too cheery as he did so, “I believe he is having difficulty following your orders. Shall we offer him some assistance?”

“Perhaps.”

In the next instant stabbing pain erupted from his left foot triggering the release of a painful scream at the unexpectedness of it. Quickly realizing he was giving voice to his pain he bit back as much of it as he could soon releasing only soft hisses in response to the thrumming agony and violent chills rapidly climbing all the way up his spine.

Feeling another pat to his cheek he attempted to jerk away gritting his teeth and gnawing on his bottom lip to keep from offering a reaction when he failed. After several more moments the colonel spoke again, “I recently met an old friend of yours and he told me all kinds of interesting things: about you, your agency, the work you recently did for them. It took time, but we were able to successfully extract something useful. We worked him over really well. Did you know that he even gave us the name of his US contact? Imagine our surprise when it turned out to be someone we had already successfully acquired. _You_ , Agent DiNozzo, have been keeping secrets.”

His response was the sudden flaring of his nostrils, his lips now set in a grim line as a small muffled groan came forth. He tried pulling his head forward aware of the firm grip still in place as well as the slight vise-like grip around his throat. Licking dry lips he forced out a harsh breathless, “Come on that’s one of the oldest tricks in the book.”

“Hmm. Tell me is your brain finally catching up to the fact that you were just stabbed and are bleeding rather elaborately at that, Agent DiNozzo? Pain receptors are funny things. Those pesky little messages don’t always travel rapidly. Sometimes there is a lapse between the actual pain and your brain becoming aware of it.”

Unaware of it he released another harsh gasp that turned into a hiss in response to the persistent burning in his left foot. Swallowing hard he felt warm breath again brush across his right ear as the colonel continued, “I believe it has. Are you perhaps feeling a bit faint, my friend? Has the burning pain started yet?”

Gritting his teeth firmer and drawing in a ragged deep breath he forced out, “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

“Hmm so I have been told. Tell me what would happen to your poor foot if my friend here were to apply a bit of spark? You see right now there is minimal damage. We pull that knife out it will widen the injury yes but probably won’t cause any permanent damage. Now just imagine live current traversing your body. I highly doubt you could keep that foot still,” adding pressure to his throat and hair he continued in a sharper voice, “You may want to consider that before you give in to your obvious urge to take that right knee and ram it into me, Agent DiNozzo, for I promise I will show you _no mercy_ if you dare.”

Swallowing hard he gasped as the hand on his throat squeezed just a bit more. In the next instant the knife in his foot was abruptly yanked out before a sudden sharp jolt sparked against his left side as live wires were applied to his bare sweat slicked skin.

****  
_Oxon Hill, Maryland – Henry’s Soul Café_

Entering the quiet café McGee scanned the interior before saying, “Boss,” and pointing to a rather tall brunette presently wiping down one of the counters. Nodding in response the two approached. Certain he had the right person he addressed, “Uh hello Miss Whitaker?”

The woman paused lifting her gaze from the table as she replied, “Yes?”

“Are you Miss Samantha Whitaker?”

“Yes I am. How may I help you?”

Pulling out his ID he held it up saying, “I’m Agent McGee and this is Agent Gibbs, we’re with NCIS…”

Upon hearing their agency name she immediately stopped what she was doing, lying the rag down before settling an intense gaze on both agents, surreptitiously eyeing them before speaking, “How may I help you gentlemen?”

“You don’t seem too surprised to see us.”

“I was hoping I would see someone in law enforcement a lot sooner than now.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s been over three months, thought for sure someone would have approached me in that time.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Two of my patrons who were regulars suddenly stopped coming in to see me. I had hoped they just changed restaurants for a time, but I know that’s not the reason why.”

Gibbs intruded then holding up a photograph of Amanda Ryder asking, “Do you recognize the woman in this photo?”

She focused on the image, a sad smile forming on her lips as she nodded her head in answer. After several moments passed she sighed and continued, “She would come in here two or three times a week, usually with the same man. They’d sit at a table towards the back. They’d stay there sometimes for hours just talking. The last time I saw them they had just stopped in to check on me, said she had to work that night so they had to cut their visit short.”

“Can you describe the man?”

Another sad smile as she answered, “Tall, about six foot two, pretty hazel eyes, nice smile, charming… He’s one of yours.”

“What?”

“That’s why I’m surprised you’re just now asking me questions. I haven’t seen Tony or her in over three months.”

Gibbs interrupted, “Tony?”

“The man who always came here with Amanda. His name’s Tony. He works for your agency.”

McGee interrupted in shock then, “You, you knew Tony?”

“Yes.” 

Pulling out a second picture Gibbs held it up for her and asked, “Is this the man you saw her with?”

She looked at the image. It appeared to be well-worn. Her gaze then shifted from it to the older man before her. She studied him certain that he was fond of the man in the photograph…and worried. Without thinking she asked, “What happened to Tony and Amanda, Agent Gibbs?”

Instead of answering he repeated his question again, “Is this the man you saw her with?”

She offered him a slight nod before continuing, “He could always make her smile.”

“Would you say they were dating?” interrupted McGee.

“Dating? No, no. They were just friends.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. They were more like support for one another, you know? Met up just to talk…”

Tim rudely interrupted with, “Tony never just talks.”

Sam glared icily at him as she snapped, “Well he does, Agent McGee, and I don’t like what you’re insinuating.”

His mouth ran away with him as he stated, “He’s a player.”

The comment earned glares from both their witness and Gibbs. Aware that he had just inserted his foot into his mouth he huffed, glanced away then refocused again on the woman as she continued, “No. They were just friends. Does your team always make a habit of jumping to the wrong conclusions? If so, I can see why he always seemed upset.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I may not know him as well as I’d like, but Tony’s a decent guy. Told me he was an agent…agents have teams. If you’re one of his teammates I can see why he always seemed upset. Teams are supposed to work _together_.”

Gibbs watched her, studying her intently, aware that she wasn’t telling them the whole truth. Without thought he stated, “You’re very defensive of a man you barely know.”

She downcast her eyes, a sure indicator she was holding something back. Gibbs continued, “You know him?”

“Well as an acquaintance yes.”

“How?”

Gnawing gently on her bottom lip she hesitated for several moments before answering, “He…the nights I work really late he… Tony usually comes in to check on me, walks me to my car. He makes sure I’m safe… Gave me his card, told me that I could call him anytime if…if I need to.”

“Did he do that often?”

“Yes, said he didn’t mind.”

She lowered her gaze to the floor hesitating to say anything else but then continued, “I asked him if he sleeps, you know jokingly, because he always turned up when I got off late.”

“Oh.”

“Said he doesn’t sleep much, too much on his mind. I figured it’s the cases, you know? His job, yours… Can’t be easy.”

“Did he stop in here the night of March 8th?”

She fell silent, her eyes downcast as she quietly answered, “Yeah… Is, is he going to be all right, Agent Gibbs?”

Tim interrupted, “You remember that date?”

“It was the last night I saw him. I had a late night that weekend, when he didn’t show, didn’t answer my calls I…I…”

Nodding towards the picture still in Gibbs’ right hand she continued, “Her too. They were regulars… That was the night he disappeared wasn’t it, Agent Gibbs?” She questioned again her arms coming up to wrap about herself. 

“Yes. Can you remember what time he was here that night?”

“That night? Um, earlier than usual, said that Mandy had the graveyard shift at the hospital so…”

“Time?”

“Um quarter of six, I think.”

“You think?”

“Was still light out, time change was that weekend…that’s how I, why, I remember. Amanda, she’s a nurse at Bethesda. She and Ton…...Agent DiNozzo, came in here together a lot.”

“Was he ever with anyone else?”

“Tony?”

McGee nodded she continued, “Uh Jimmy…he…he’s nice too.”

“This Jimmy have a last name?” asked McGee.

“Palmer, Jimmy Palmer. He and Tony, they worked together. He…he still visits, him and his wife. They help me, says it’s the least they could do since Tony’s…,” shaking her head she changed subjects, “What about Amanda?”

McGee and Gibbs exchanged a tense look before Tim answered, “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but she’s dead. She was killed the same night that Tony went missing.”

Tears began to slowly flow down over her cheeks as she looked intently at Gibbs and requested, “Agent Gibbs, please find him.”

Gibbs now certain she knew Tony much more than she implied gentled his voice as he responded, “We’re working on it.”

Tim handed her his card urging, “You think of anything else give us a call.”

She nodded the tears seeming to increase before she haphazardly brushed them away saying, “Yeah. I’ll do that.”

They then left. As they climbed into their vehicle Tim spoke, “Well now we know which direction Tony took the night he disappeared.”

“When we get back…”

“Work on analyzing satellite imagery to see where they were intercepted.”

Tim started the car focusing once again on Gibbs as he said, “She knows Tony better than she said.”

“Yeah, McGee, I got that. I’ll have Ziva run a more thorough background on her.”

“Boss I could…”

“I want you on their route of travel. We need to find out where they were blocked in. See if we can find where Amanda Ryder was killed.”

“You think she’s lying?”

“No, but she’s not telling us the whole truth.”

“Think she saw something?”

“Maybe, maybe not. We need to pursue all possible leads, no matter how small they may seem.”

“Got it boss.”

Starting the car Tim glanced at the café once more, aware that he had never known that Tony was a regular here. Hell, he didn’t think Tony would even eat in a café. Let alone meet up with a woman just to _talk_. He thought he knew his partner, but now he was beginning to wonder if he had ever really known him at all.

****  
_NCIS Headquarters – Bull Pen_

As he and McGee stepped off the elevator they approached their work area. McGee immediately went to his desk and picked up the search on Tony’s route home the night he disappeared. Gibbs approached his desk looking over at Ziva he said, “Want you to do some more background on our waitress, Ziva.”

Looking up in surprise she asked, “Samantha Whitaker? Why?”

“We just interviewed her.”

“And?”

“And she’s not telling us everything. I want you to dig into her past. See if you can connect her to DiNozzo.”

“Tony? She knows Tony?”

“Said he was a regular,” added McGee who continued, “But she seems to know him more than she was letting on.”

“So?”

His voice edged with irritation Gibbs answered, “See what you can dig up. Get me some answers.”

“And the routes of travel…”

“McGee will continue working on them.”

“Understood.”

Nodding Gibbs sat down reaching for his phone as it began to ring. Picking it up, he greeted the caller. When there was no initial response he repeated his greeting tensing when a computerized voice was next to fill his ear, “Your agent is very stubborn. Did you teach him that, Agent Gibbs?”

Gibbs jerked his head up and pointed at McGee motioning with his hand to start recording and tracing the call while automatically placing it on speaker asking, “Who the hell are you?”

“I am impressed with his pain tolerance. It is most fascinating.”

“How did you get this number?”

The electronic voice continued as if it were a recording, “I’ve been told that you have finally found his friend. I’m sure if Agent DiNozzo knew of her unfortunate demise it would crush him. We both know how protective he is of the women in his life. Do you think he learned that from you as well, Agent Gibbs?”

Bastard! Mentally cursing he demanded, “Tell me where he is.”

Instead of answering or even acknowledging the demand the voice continued, “I have one of your agents. How long do you think it will be before I get my hands on another? I’m thinking that pretty little forensics scientist your Agent DiNozzo still refuses to name. He is most stubborn about such things, a trait the two of you seem to share in spades. I’m sure with her I could find out all kinds of interesting little facts, but alas I need her to track down some things first.”

“Who…”

The voice continued, “You are running out of time, Agent Gibbs. First Agent DiNozzo, next your forensics scientist. Did anyone ever tell you that you should keep work and family separate? For you it may well be your undoing. He is mine, and she will soon follow. How much can you take before you will finally break?”

The phone line went dead and McGee shook his head saying, “Couldn’t get a trace.”

“Damn it. Get that recording down to Abby. See if she can pull anything from it.”

McGee jumped up preparing to do so when Gibbs softened his voice as he continued, “Stay with her, Tim.”

“I will.”

Fornell, who had been called down from Vance’s office at the same time as the Director by one of his men, looked over at Agent Carroll who quickly caught up with McGee in the elevator.

Vance spoke up then, “So he’s finally making his next move.”

“Yes, but why now Leon?”

Fornell entered the conversation, “We found Amanda Ryder maybe he was waiting…”

“Waiting for what Tobias?”

Vance answered, “For us to find her before setting his plan into motion again.”

“But for what purpose?”

Vance answered, “Torment. He knew that by doing so it would get to you. He not only mentioned DiNozzo but also going after Miss Scuito next. He’s playing you Gibbs. The comment about family in relation to both her and DiNozzo means he’s aware of how close you are to them, which puts them both in his direct line of fire.”

Fornell commented, “DiNozzo’s already _in_ his line of fire.”

All three fell silent while Ziva quietly watched from the sidelines her own mind analyzing what had just occurred. Her attention was drawn back to the three older men when Fornell spoke again, “The thing I don’t understand is how he knows that we found her?”

“Maybe he’s watching us…”

“Or someone else is,” said Gibbs.

“Either way he has just escalated the situation, and it’s obvious he now has his sights set on you.”

“He already has, Leon, by taking DiNozzo he got my attention.”

“His goal is to destroy you through those you care about.”

“Right by targeting DiNozzo and now Miss Scuito.”

“He’s upping his game. He knows he has an ace in the hole with DiNozzo, and now his focus has shifted to also include Miss Scuito.”

Vance nodded as he said, “Which means things have probably become worse for DiNozzo as well. He was playing it safe, cautious in those photos. The injuries were extremely painful and there were many but none appeared to be overly severe or life-threatening. If he’s upping the ante with you who’s to say he’s not doing the same with DiNozzo?”

Gibbs answered that, “No. Tony’s still valuable to him. He doesn’t want him dead.”

Fornell and Vance shared an intensely conspiratorial look between them before returning their focus to Gibbs who snapped, “You two holding something back?”

Fornell fielded that question, “No.”

Vance continued, “We have a working theory, but we’re not ready to share it.”

“Yet,” continued Fornell.

Gibbs glared at them opening his mouth to retort when he noticed Leon’s subtle glance to his left. Turning his head he drew in a deep calming breath as his eyes settled on those of Ziva David who was watching their exchange intensely. Silently cursing his almost slip of the tongue he huffed before saying, “I’m going to pay a visit to Abby,” then made a rapid retreat to the elevator while Vance and Fornell shared another intense look.

**  
_NCIS Headquarters – Abby’s Lab_

Entering the lab the first thing he noticed was the apparent present stand-off between Abby and McGee. The second thing he noticed was Agent Carroll watching the two intently. Approaching he asked, “What’s up Abs?”

“I can’t work like this, Gibbs, make them go away.”

Tim interrupted, “Abby I need you to analyze this phone call for me.”

Snagging the recording from his hand she continued, “I will…just not while you and him are here.”

“Abby.”

“You know how I feel about strange people in my lab, Tim, make him go away. Shoo, both of you!”

Looking at Gibbs he asked, “Boss?”

Sighing in his frustration Gibbs answered, “Get back upstairs and continue going over those routes. We need to find out where our victim died. Go, Tim.”

Hesitating he nodded before leaving. Once gone Abby asked, “Why would you send him down here with, with…?”

“Abby, Abs!”

Lifting her head and focusing on him he continued, “For what it’s worth I don’t think he’s involved.”

“But we have no proof of that.”

“How about having worked closely with him for several years?”

Her shoulders sagged and she answered, “I don’t want to believe it either. I don’t believe it but Tony’s out there somewhere and we have to find him. If he or Ziva…”

Gently grasping her arms and tugging her close he answered, “I know. I understand.”

“We need to prove that they’re not involved…”

“And we will but right now our focus _has_ to be on Tony. We have to find him, Abs."

“Okay what do you need?”

“Need you to analyze that call for me, see what you can pull from it.”

“Call?”

“Just received it and Abs… It’s, it references both Tony…and you. I need to get you under protective custody.”

“What?”

“Just see what you can do with it.”

Nodding she continued, “Oh that second set of prints came up as belonging to Amanda Ryder. I also had a chance to go through Tony’s wallet, nothing out of the ordinary but…”

Gibbs halted, his mind traveling back to the phone call and the statement made, _‘I need her to track down some things first.’_

“Abs go over his wallet again. Examine it for any missing, added or odd items.”

“Uh okay, why?”

“In that phone call he made a comment regarding you.”

“He…he did?”

“Said he needed you to track down some things.”

Pausing her thoughts she focused intently on Gibbs asking, “You think he left something for me to find…”

“That can only be found through forensics? Yes. Just check it, check everything.”

“Got it. I’ll check everything.”

Pressing a kiss to her temple he said a soft, “Thanks Abs,” then started exiting her lab when she latched onto his arm informing, “Wait! I’m not done yet.”

“You have something else for me?”

“Yeah…but you’re not going to like it.”

Looking at her intently he waited for her to continue. Sighing she did, “I think we have a problem. Or rather I…I’m pretty sure we do…have a problem that is, a big, BIG problem.”

“What is it Abs?”

“Well I’ve been going through the evidence from our fake crime scene, and I…I found some things. Things I think we _really_ need to be concerned about.”

“Abs relax. Tell me.”

Directing him to the table behind them covered in evidence bags she informed, “Okay well I laid out all the evidence: Tony’s jacket, his mail, his keys, the lock box and his gun,” while pointing out each item as she did.

“And?”

“Okay. At first things seemed pretty normal. Nothing really stood out. When going over his jacket I found this stuck in the zipper lining,” holding up an evidence bag Gibbs could see a shard of glass inside. She continued, “And I matched it to the glass from the shattered window in the car.”

“We expected that, Abs, so what has you so upset?”

Nibbling nervously on her bottom lip she placed the evidence bag on the table then turned towards Tony’s gun pointing at it as she continued, “You said to pay special attention to Tony’s weapon, so I did, and what I found…”

“Abs?”

Looking perplexed now she answered, “The lock box was clean, Gibbs, there were _no_ fingerprints on it, not even Tony’s.”

“Okay that’s… Wait not even, did you find _any_ prints on that lock box, Abby?”

“No, that’s what I’m trying to say. There’s none. It’s almost as if someone wiped the entire thing down, and that should be impossible…right? I mean his weapon was locked up _in_ his house. There’s no way anyone could have accessed it except you or Jimmy, and the lock? It doesn’t look forced or jimmied. There’s no evidence of tampering, but…”

“But?”

 _“Inside…"_ She visually shuddered before continuing now more worried than previously, “You said that when the FBI conducted their examination they found Tony’s prints on the gun and no evidence of firing correct?”

“Yes.”

“They also said that they had found Tony’s prints all over the lock box exterior?”

“Yes, they… Abby?”

Looking even more troubled than before Abby continued in a strained voice, “Gibbs I checked the lock box and the weapon and there’s _nothing_ on them, not even Tony’s fingerprints. It’s like someone wiped the weapon and lock box clean _after_ they were returned. The serial number matches. It’s Tony’s weapon, but I could find no prints at all. How’d the weapon get back to his house?”

“The only prints on it were Tony’s and it hadn’t been fired, so Fornell released it to Palmer. They were working off the assumption that Tony may have locked it up before he was grabbed…”

“And that was all before we realized it was all staged?”

“Yes.”

“Okay but…”

“But?”

“When I opened the lock box and retrieved the gun I also… I found this.” She said as she handed him another evidence bag with what looked like receipt paper inside. He glanced briefly at it asking, “What is it?”

Abby now looking anxious and very worried continued, “Gibbs, it was _inside_ the lock box _underneath_ Tony’s gun. The FBI would have found it if it had been there when they first checked it.”

“If? Abs, what…?”

She reached for the evidence bag and quietly urged, “Turn it over.”

As Gibbs complied, she immediately pointed to the handwritten words scrawled across the bottom of the receipt. As he read the message he felt the hair raise on the back of his neck and chills climb his spine:

_“Care to guess which ones these are, Agent Gibbs?”_

Abby continued, “It’s a receipt from a hardware store in Maryland…for _duplicate_ keys, Gibbs. Tony’s keys were left on the counter in his house. They were brought in with the rest of the evidence. Whoever left us this message made copies of four keys on that key ring… And wants us to know that they did.”

Gibbs felt panic threaten to overwhelm him but pushed it back managing, “The date…”

“What?”

Gibbs looked at the top of the receipt and became even more worried. Abby noting his sudden anxiousness questioned, “Gibbs what…?”

“Abs, the copies were made the same night he disappeared.”

Feeling scared now she softly asked, “So what does that mean?”

“That someone’s been following us, probably still is.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because I was in that lock box several weeks ago and there sure as hell was no receipt inside! Whoever did this held onto the receipt and waited for me to realize Tony was missing before planting it. Abs that’s _premeditation_.”

“And that’s very bad.”

“Yes. Abby those keys, which ones do you think were copied?”

Abby feeling even more anxious than before answered, “Well one has to be to the lock box. It’s the only explanation for how that receipt could have gotten inside. It would also explain why a lock box and gun that had previously been covered in Tony’s prints, is now completely clean. Another key is most likely to Tony’s house, so whoever did this could enter it at any time…”

“That would explain why they took out the security camera.”

“To come and go at will. They’d know the house was empty due to being responsible for Tony’s disappearance. All they’d have to do was keep a distant watch on it. Jimmy only drops by his house a couple times a week to collect his mail, check on things, make sure everything’s all right… It would give them unlimited access to his house at any time day or night.”

Hating to but knowing it needed to be done he questioned, “Any idea on what the other two are, Abby?”

“I think so, but you’re not going to like it.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Nodding she placed the receipt on the counter and retrieved Tony’s keys. Holding them up in gloved hands she went to two specific ones that looked similar in design. Swallowing passed the lump now forming in his throat Gibbs managed, “Are those _house keys_ , Abby?”

“Yes. The first one is mine. The second one…? I’m pretty sure is Jimmy’s. The other keys on the ring are car keys, a garage key, Tony’s house key and the one for his lock box. Gibbs, you know what this means?”

“Means I want Palmer under guard as well, and you?” Drawing her into his arms, he held her tight as he continued, “You are going to be staying at my place for a while…at least until we can get you some new locks.”

****  
_NCIS Headquarters – The Bull Pen_

Gibbs returned to his desk trying not to let his thoughts runaway with the recent developments in the case. It was now quite obvious that the one wanting revenge on him was making more moves. He had started with abducting Tony, then escalated to the threatening phone call and now he leaves a message in his missing agent’s house that threatens not only Abby but Palmer as well? What was this bastard’s end game and where the hell was Tony?

The longer he sat there the more he had the nagging sense that he was missing something _big_. Things just weren’t making sense. Tony was abducted and held prisoner for over three months before they were even alerted to him missing. Leon and Fornell _knew_ that he was being held somewhere and had been searching for him long before he had found out. Why? What did they know that he didn’t? Leon had made a comment when they were at Tony’s place that has since bothered him. What was it he had said that day? He believed Tony had discovered _something_ , had gotten too close and that someone had found out, but who and what?

While sitting at his desk mentally going over the case his gaze slid to Tony’s desk. Focusing on it his mind began to taunt him. Something was wrong about Tony’s desk, but what was it? Standing up he walked over to it. The first thing he noticed was just how clean the area was, evidence that the agent who belonged to this desk hadn’t been here for some time. Opening the top drawer he stared at it for several moments before turning to look for the files that are normally on the shelf behind the desk. Upon seeing it empty he suddenly realized what was so odd about it and cursed, “Son of a bitch!”

Tim startled asking, “What? What is it, boss?” falling silent when Gibbs slammed the drawer shut before making a direct beeline up the stairs to Vance’s office. Without stopping at his secretary’s desk he simply barged in. Vance was on the phone and glanced up at the intrusive agent before telling the person on the other end that he’d have to call them back. Once the phone was hung up he asked, “How can I help you, Agent Gibbs?”

“You’ve been holding back, Leon.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re hiding something.”

“I don’t follow.”

“His personal effects.”

“His, DiNozzo, you’re referring to DiNozzo.”

“What are you trying to hide?”

“You have a lot of nerve barging in here, Agent Gibbs…”

“His desk, Leon! What did he have in his desk?”

Drawing in a deep breath he focused intently on his senior agent before sternly asking, “What makes you think he had anything in his desk, Agent Gibbs?”

“Cut the crap! He didn’t voluntarily leave! No resignation! He didn’t quit!”

“We have already ascertained that, Agent Gibbs.”

“Yet his desk is _empty_. His files are all gone. His personal effects, everything. What the hell are you trying to cover up, Leon?”

“It’s standard…”

“Don’t give me that crap!”

Snatching up a toothpick he placed it between his lips before ordering, “Have a seat, Agent Gibbs.”

“I want to…”

“Have a seat. Now.”

Slowly he lowered into the seat before coldly glaring at the Director. Leon began to gnaw on his toothpick formulating an answer, “All of his things are secure.”

“Secure?”

Aggravated now Vance leaned forward offering, “We _had_ to make it look like he quit.”

“What?”

“In order to draw out anyone connected to the conspiracy he had uncovered and conceal the information he holds we had to make it look like he quit.”

“Why?” After several moments Gibbs answered his own question, “You were using him as bait.”

“No not as bait. You have this all wrong, Gibbs. You don’t know the whole story.”

“Then tell me.”

“He, we… I can’t, Gibbs. All I can tell you is…he got too close, and we needed to conceal what he knows.”

“Too close? To what?”

“We were worried that he, what he was doing, what he had found was compromised. When he disappeared that night we had to think of a quick cover or risk exposure. We were trying to _protect_ him.”

“To protect…do you know who has him?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know this information you are supposedly trying to conceal hasn’t already been found?”

“Because if it is we will know. The fact that we have seen no indication of it _at all_ tells me that they don’t know. If they don’t know then the only way to uncover it is either through DiNozzo or someone accessing those files.”

“Which is why you secured them and his property?”

“Yes.”

“What did he find out, Leon?”

“I…I can’t tell you that.”

“Can you tell me anything?”

“Yeah, we never connected them to you in any way. We had no reason to believe that someone involved in this wanted revenge on you. Unfortunately, we were wrong.”

After several moments of silence Gibbs asked, “And my team? How do they tie into all of this? You really think one of them is a mole?”

“We don’t know.”

“Then what _do_ you know?”

“We suspect that one of your agents is involved, but whether it’s directly or indirectly, we’re not sure. We need to keep watch over them. Even if they are indirectly involved it’s still obvious that one of them is connected to our mole.”

Gibbs wanted to punch him, to lash out at him but held back as he leaned forward and demanded, “Just what the hell did Tony stumble upon?” receiving no answer he continued, “There’s a lot more to this, isn’t there, Leon?”

“Yes much, _much_ more.”

“Tony wasn’t just abducted to get revenge on me.”

“No. No he wasn’t. We think that was an unexpected benefit to the one who took him.”

“An _unexpected benefit_?”

“He was **actively targeted** , and there was a very specific reason for that. I’m just not at liberty to discuss it with you Agent Gibbs.”

“Well you had better start filling me in or…”

“Or you’ll what? Gibbs, this isn’t a game! What he stumbled upon, the information he knows, if his captors knew it, discovered it, they _would_ kill him. The only thing keeping him alive is that they have no idea just what it is he knows or how much he’s uncovered! If they find out, even _suspect_ what DiNozzo knows they will kill him without a second thought just to keep it quiet!”

“What did he discover, Leon?”

“I can’t tell you that, not yet.”

“Not yet? What the hell is going on?”

“A lot more than you realize or have been told.”

“Okay then _tell_ me.”

“I can’t, especially without Fornell’s say. It’s their investigation Gibbs. It started here, based on what Agent DiNozzo discovered we decided to pull in the feds. When he went missing it was no longer a choice.”

“Right missing federal agent means immediate FBI investigation.”

“Yes.”

“Can you at least tell me what he had in his desk?”

“What makes you think he had anything?”

“Because you went through a hell of a lot to secure it. You had to of moved on his desk before we came in the next day as it appeared cleaned out the very next morning.”

“When Palmer called me on the night of DiNozzo’s disappearance to report he found a broken security camera on his property I immediately called Fornell and we packed up his desk. We had to. If someone had searched it they would have found classified files that he had been working with. They would have found out that he knew a hell of a lot more than he should have. We had no choice but to do so.”

“So Fornell wasn’t just at DiNozzo’s house to process a crime scene he was also ensuring that nothing was taken or tampered with and that any volatile information was confiscated.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you have eyes on him, a tracking device, a wire, something? If you knew or suspected someone would make a move on him…”

“That’s just it. We _didn’t_ know someone would make a move. Everything he knows, everything he found out was kept within an extremely tight network of people. In order to even be privy to what it was requires a high clearance level. Gibbs even his _involvement_ was kept concealed, only a handful of people knew about it. We did everything we could to ensure that.”

“Protocols…"

“We had protocols in place.”

“And did anyone follow any of these…protocols?”

“You tell me, Gibbs.”

“I’m sorry?”

“A license plate number in combination with a set of mysterious letters and numbers written in Agent DiNozzo’s hand.”

“His clue.”

“Yes his clue.”

“What was he working on Leon?”

“Conspiracies and cover ups, Agent Gibbs.”

“How did he even get involved in something like that?”

“He was requested.”

“Requested?”

“By name.”

“And you didn’t inform me?”

“No reason to. We never expected it to lead where it has and now…”

“Now?”

“All I can tell you is to let this go. Let me speak with Fornell. I’m certain he will fill you in, but for now you _have_ to let this rest, Gibbs.”

“Oh the hell I will!”

“Your stupidity will get DiNozzo killed! You need to let this _go_.”

Gibbs stood up angry and irritated. He started for the door halting when Vance snapped, “Agent Gibbs!”

He was on the verge of leaving and slamming the door on his way out, but something in Leon’s voice just now halted him in his place. Turning around he saw the unexpected worry and was that fear? Flair briefly in Vance’s eyes before it vanished. It was enough to gain his full attention. Focusing on the Director he was not prepared for what the man said next, and it was enough to stay his hand:

“Agent DiNozzo has knowledge of highly sensitive Intel that could potentially place us in direct conflict with China _and_ Russia, as well as possibly lead us into another war.”

“WHAT? _HOW?_ "

Instead of answering the questions posed Vance ended with a simple, “You cannot pursue this further until we have a meeting with Fornell. Do you understand me, Agent Gibbs?”

“But Leon…”

“I’ve already told you far more than I should have. You cannot pursue this or you **WILL** get Tony killed. We have a leak in this agency and if they get wind of any of this I’ve no doubt an urgent message will be sent out to whoever has him to _eliminate_ the problem. You can’t pursue this. Do you understand me?”

“Yes sir…but I want to know what’s going on. I need to know. I deserve to know.”

“I’ll arrange a meeting with Fornell.”

Nodding he drew in a calming breath before approaching the door, pausing to offer a thank you before exiting. Vance only hoped that in stressing he couldn’t pursue it that his senior agent would obey the order and not make the situation potentially worse.

Leaving the Director’s office he realized he now had more questions than answers. He knew that Vance still wasn’t telling him everything. In fact, he was certain there were quite a few “selective” omissions and half-truths in what he was told. Vance stated quite bluntly that Tony had been targeted, but not for the sensitive Intel he had somehow acquired. If not for that then what? Why was he targeted at all? If he were to guess he’d say the mole is the one who placed the bullseye on Tony, but that left the obvious question of why? Why Tony, and what made him a primary target?

The questions would drive him nuts, and he needed answers. The one thing he did know for certain is the more time that went by the lower Tony’s chances became, and the harder it would be to find him. Time was not on their side, and if they didn’t find him soon he might very well become lost forever.

**  
_NCIS Headquarters – MCRT Bullpen_

Entering the bull pen his mind consumed with thoughts on what the Director had just informed him of he was caught off guard by McGee’s sudden excited, “Uh boss! I think I may have found something.”

Waiting for him to continue he encouraged, “Go on, McGee. What have you found?”

“I’ve been combing over satellite imagery since getting back from interviewing the waitress, and I think I may have found three potential ambush locales along Tony’s route home.”

Approaching Tim’s desk he focused on his screen watching as Tim pointed them out. Glad for the distraction and possible clue he addressed, “Well come on, Tim. Let’s go check it out.”

Glancing at Ziva’s presently empty desk he questioned, “Boss, what about Ziva?”

“I ordered her to go home and get some rest. She needed to get away from the office.”

“And she actually listened?”

“Well yeah Tim I made it an order.”

“Ah.”

“Let’s go.”

Nodding he caught the keys Gibbs tossed his way before grabbing his go bag and following his boss out the door. Both of them hoping that this would be the break they needed to find out what really happened the night of Tony’s disappearance.

**  
_Middleton Road near White Plains, MD_

Seeing the pull off up ahead McGee clicked on the right hand turn signal and pulled off of the road. Once parked he climbed out of the car informing, “Well this is one of the most likely places they could have forced them off the road, boss.”

Opening his door and climbing out of the car as well he questioned, “Any other places, McGee?” while scanning the dense tree line before him. Looking up and down the side of the road he noted the grass hadn’t been cut in a while, which could make it more difficult to find any evidence or easier seeing as it would have concealed any possible traces left behind. As McGee answered his inquiry he continued his scan of the area, “Yeah two others not far from here. Another pull off up ahead and the third down this road a bit further, make a left hand turn and it’s on the right. Boss, this may not be the place…”

Gibbs looked at his younger agent before slowly walking the length of the car pausing when he saw an unusual piece of trash near their front tire. Lowering he immediately put gloves on before casually saying, “Tim…”

“Yeah boss?”

“Get some pictures of this.”

Retrieving the camera he approached and snapped a few pictures before crouching down opposite Gibbs and asking, “What is it, boss?”

Reaching to pick it up Gibbs’ requested, “Evidence bag,” which Tim quickly pulled out. Focusing on the item now clutched in his boss’ raised hand he listened to him continue, “Doesn’t seem like a prime location for a drug addict to hang out, and I don’t see any signs of someone dumping garbage along this side of the road. So care to guess what one of these can be used for in a high priority kidnapping, Tim?”

He momentarily gaped at the empty syringe in Gibbs’ hand shocked that he had found anything at all. Draping the evidence bag temporarily over his leg he snapped several more photographs before picking it up again and opening it. He watched as Gibbs dropped the needle into the bag then sealed it preparing to say it didn’t mean anything when Gibbs arose to his feet and once again started scanning the immediate area. Quickly marking the bag he too rose to stand beside his boss wondering what had caught his attention this time.

After several moments Gibbs spoke, “The car was forced off the road here. They were most likely boxed in, one in front, one in back to prevent escape. The people in the second car climbed out, one on each side. Person on the left had a bat that he used to break the passenger side window. Person on the right was to control the driver. After breaking the window they would have yanked the door open to drag DiNozzo out and then subdued him with the injection. He’d fight and attempt to give the driver a chance to make her escape. Knowing he was a fully armed federal agent they would want to take him down fast. They also had limited time: busy road, highly traveled, wouldn’t want to be stopped or spotted so they’d have to move quickly. The injection would slow DiNozzo down. Once the drugs took affect it would have taken at least two men to lift him, a third to help transfer him into the waiting car. The one with the bat probably helped lift him and in order to do so would have needed to get rid of the bat. His options were limited and time was of the essence, so he’d either have tossed it into the woods or into one of the vehicles…”

“Okay.”

Gibbs continued as if he hadn’t heard McGee, “They most likely had a third car probably drove up beside them to effectively box them in even more. Two cars here to prevent escape and provide enough muscle to drag a nearly or possibly unconscious agent into the first vehicle. They probably put him in the trunk then drove off leaving two vehicles behind. They’d need to leave at least three people after grabbing DiNozzo…”

“Why three boss?”

“One to stay with the second car, one to guard the car Tony was originally in and…”

“At least one to chase down the driver.”

“Yep. If they were forced off the road here she would have thrown the driver’s door into the main line of traffic and ran in that direction,” Gibbs said while pointing opposite their present position.

McGee finished his statement, “Across the highway and into the woods… Could be where our second crime scene is boss.”

“I’m betting that’s where our second crime scene is McGee. They ran her down, shot her as she was fleeing…”

“Which would have slowed her down giving them time to catch up…”

“Caught her then…”

“Executed her,” Tim sadly sighed as he continued, “She didn’t stand a chance, boss.”

“No, Tim, I don’t think she did.”

Nodding Tim headed towards the tree line on their side of the road paying close attention to where he was walking and struggling to see through the thick overgrown weeds that occupied the whole area. Pausing at the small gap between two big trees he settled his gaze directly in front of him saying more to himself than anyone, “Looks like this used to be a dirt road of some sort.”

He then continued his scan by looking left then right his eyes catching on what looked like a distinctly shaped piece of wood. Without thought he called out, “Uh boss, think I found our bat!”

Gibbs approached to look at the item that McGee was now photographing then said, “Bag it. Get it to Abby as soon as we get back.”

“Then?”

“First we follow our victim’s route. Put that in the car and climb into the driver’s seat Tim.”

“Boss?”

“Humor me.”

Nodding he complied. Gibbs continued, “Swing the door open.”

“What?”

“Abby said there’s a dent on the driver’s side door consistent with a body impact. She threw the door open into the line of traffic and ran most likely into those woods. Grab the camera, some evidence bags and lock the door McGee we’re going for a walk.”

Nodding he did as ordered then climbed out of the vehicle. Gibbs pointed across the road from them saying, “She most likely entered the woods there. It was early March so there would’ve been little if any undergrowth,” Gibbs proceeded to cross the road and pause before the edge of the woods calling over his shoulder, “Come on McGee!”

He started across but had to stop and wait for a car to go passed before continuing to his boss’ side. Once there Gibbs started to walk again while McGee voiced his thoughts aloud, “If she was running from the attackers she would have been in a panic. Most likely would have started to run in a straight line…”

“But had to veer around this copse of trees to continue. You go around that way I’ll go around this way.”

Together they continued to walk the woods halting when Tim interrupted, “Uh boss?”

“Yeah Tim?”

He pointed at a distinctly shiny object up ahead. Approaching he lowered to get a closer look before informing, “Either we have a lot of hunters in these woods…”

“Passed several ‘No Hunting’ signs on our way back here Tim.”

Nodding he continued, “Or someone didn’t police their brass.”

As he scanned the area in front of him he prepared to turn towards Tim when his eyes caught sight of something else. Walking over he tensed as he noticed what lay in the grass. Turning it over he said, “I’d wager they didn’t police their brass, McGee.”

Looking up at his boss he questioned, “Why?”

Gibbs answered, “Because I found a wallet over here, and I’m betting it belonged to our victim. It’s also been conveniently secured in a freezer bag. No doubt to survive the elements until we found it.”

Jerking his head up he gazed at Gibbs in surprised shock asking, “They _wanted_ us to find these?”

“Premeditated…”

“Boss?”

“They knew we’d come out here and search. They left these items intentionally.”

“But why? Why go through all this trouble?”

Gibbs focused intently on his younger agent as he simply answered, “That’s what has me worried.”

****  
_Abyei, North Sudan_

Leaning in while insuring he maintained his grip on Tony’s throat and hair the colonel quietly taunted, “You really hate me right now, don’t you Agent DiNozzo? And we have only just met. Perhaps my methods…” The tightening of his grip on Tony’s throat had him gasping as the man continued, “Are a bit too…diabolical for you? No?”

Tony said nothing, in fact, he really couldn’t speak as he was focused on trying to not panic and to breathe. While at the same time trying to ignore the now constant agonized twinging of his left foot. As the grip only intensified he automatically reacted by once again drawing his knee up.

The colonel soon eased the pressure on his throat, removing his hand only to grip his chin while maintaining the steady tension on his hair. He proceeded to then run his thumb gently across Tony’s bottom lip as he quietly chastised, “Now what did I just tell you about that knee, hmm? I _strongly_ suggest that you push your desire to strike me with it right out of your pretty mind. Do you hear me, Agent DiNozzo? I **will not** tell you again.”

He swallowed hard and huffed in reply causing the colonel to release a chuckle of delight as he continued, “Oh you’re going to be so much fun to play with. You have such fire in you, a passion seen in very few, especially after having been in captivity for as long as you have, my friend.”

 _Fuck!_ Just his luck his newest torturer was just as crazy, if not crazier, than the other two. His luck seriously sucked!

He tensed further as the hand moved away from his chin and mouth, fingers soon lightly brushing across the blindfold. Drawing in a steadying breath he forced himself to remain still wincing as the tension in his hair increased before the colonel softly addressed, “I’m betting you have pretty eyes. Do you have pretty eyes, Agent DiNozzo?”

_What **the** fuck?_

“Hmm I believe I may need to see them for myself. Tell me when were they last unveiled or do they choose to keep you constantly blind? Much easier to control you that way…or not. In your case? Nah. You, I sense, like control so this no doubt drives you mad, pisses you off, so tell me…are you angry, Agent DiNozzo? I bet you are. A man of your…charisma is probably so delightfully intense, clever too, of that I have no doubt. Hmm you’re just oozing with passion and charm.”

The twitch of Tony’s jaw and his lips pursing in suppressed fury had him chuckling as he continued, “Ah, there it is: that anger and rage. I so miss that in my prey. It’s about time I found myself a worthy adversary. You are so delightfully scrumptious, Agent DiNozzo. It will be fun to play a few games with you.”

A few _games_? That sounded ominous and having no prior association with the man did not sit well with him at all. He had no idea what he was capable of. The other two he could mentally prepare for to a point. They tended to resort to similar methods of interrogation. They occasionally mixed it up, but he had at least a vague notion of what he was in store for. This person, however, was completely new to him. He had never met him before and first impressions told him the man was a might bit insane. If his assessment was even half right there’s no telling where the torture sessions would lead. The thought alone made him exceedingly nervous, anxious and uncertain.

As if to confound those thoughts the colonel proceeded to do something unexpected. He eased his grip on Tony’s hair before releasing it, and removed his other hand from his face. Hesitating, his mind tossing about the possible consequences of moving without permission, he quickly decided to just do it. Slowly, with great trepidation, he lifted his head fully aware of the little stabs of pain the movement was mercilessly providing.

Squeezing his eyes shut he flinched as he heard sudden movement expecting a backhand, but when nothing happened he forced himself to calm down and listen intently. Soon he could hear the colonel moving directly behind him before halting again. Moments later he could pick up the subtle movements of his other visitor as he too shifted coming to a stop directly in _front_ of him. Warning bells immediately began to sound loudly in his mind making him subconsciously grip the bar his arms were lashed to, bracing himself for what was to come.

As silence stretched between them Tony was first to break it, “Well this is cozy.”

The colonel released a chuckle as he replied, “You truly are a rare gem, Agent DiNozzo.”

Nervously swallowing he continued, “So is this where you two start tag teaming me?”

Neither answered, instead he could hear the one before him step closer. Focusing his attention on him while also keeping an ear on the one behind him he waited pursing his lips and jerking back as he felt a sudden sharp prick to his left cheek. The moment he did so the colonel clucked his tongue before demanding, “Did anyone give you permission to move?”

So _that’s_ the game they were going to play? 

He didn’t answer instead he further tightened his grip on the bar in his hands only able to release a choked back growl of pain followed by painful gasping as he felt a brutal fist drive into the lower right side of his back. As he recovered he managed a tense, “So on today’s schedule we have threats, intimidation and beatings. Well this will be fun.”

His main interrogator moved closer to him crowding him as he once again pressed a sharp tip of metal, which he assumed was a knife tip, into his left cheek. This time he was harshly informed, “Pull away from me again, Anthony, and this knife will do a hell of a lot more than just scratch.”

Sniffing in disdain he answered with a terse, “Copy that,” biting back a wince as the tip of the blade dug deeper into his skin. It wasn’t long before he became aware of the fact that the minor cut was bleeding. Licking his lips he forced himself to remain still and calm. Now only half listening to the colonel as the rest of his attention was focused on the knife against his face.

The man sneered as he replied, “Arrogance. Did you learn that from him too?”

“What?”

“That bastard boss of yours.”

“I…what?” He was now confused having no idea where that comment came from or what even prompted it. Hearing a sharp yet softly hissed, “Akeem” fill the room he was unable to resist asking, “Your name’s Akeem? Nice.”

The response was the blade being slowly drawn down over his cheek leaving a lengthy scratch in its wake. As the knife was pulled away he couldn’t stop himself from speaking his thoughts aloud, “It’s nice to be able to finally put a name with a voice. Now I can stop calling you interrogator one in my mind.”

The unexpected laugh erupting behind him sent him on edge. Feeling a hand suddenly land on his right shoulder and squeeze he grimaced, face contorting in pain, as the action added further to the agony constantly flashing across his back, shoulders and arms from the positon they were presently secured in. The one behind him stating, “Oh this one has fire, Akeem.”

“STOP using my name!”

“Too late. He already appears to know it.”

Trying to ignore the fingers continuing to dig deeper into the muscle of his shoulder he forced out through gritted teeth, “Oops was that part of the plan? Kind of messes up your revenge thing, doesn’t it?”

Suddenly, unexpectedly he felt the knife blade slice into the exposed underside of his left arm drawing another hiss before it was again placed near his face as Akeem gently asked, “Did that hurt, Anthony?”

_Prick!_

As if reading his thoughts the colonel applied more biting pressure onto his shoulder drawing another choked wince to the surface. Tony automatically pulled his head forward attempting to ignore the spikes of pain originating from the cruel grip. Mentally cursing as he suddenly felt the blade of the knife brush lightly over his skin. Shit!

Unexpectedly the colonel spoke next, “Do you know how easy it is to break a collar bone, Agent DiNozzo?”

Subconsciously canting his head slightly to the left he listened as the colonel continued, “All it would take is for me to add a bit more pressure…” to emphasize his point he squeezed harsher this time drawing a breathless wince, “to snap the bone right in half. Would take some time to heal, and I fear that this particular position would cause you all sorts of divine suffering.”

Opening his mouth to respond he halted as Akeem immediately pressed the sharp edge of the blade firmly against the side of his mouth softly snarling, “I suggest you keep that mouth shut and _listen_ , Anthony.”

Closing it he waited for what was to come next caught completely off guard when a new, unexpected sound pierced his over sensitive ears. Was that an explosion? Feeling his heart lurch in his chest he had a brief moment of hope that he had been found but quickly slammed the door on those particular thoughts. The sounds were distinct and many. He could hear explosions, some seemed to be directly overhead while others were in various other directions. What the hell was going on?

As if Akeem heard that question he answered, “Ah the natives are getting restless Anthony. Pray they don’t get through our parameters for they would show you no mercy. I fear they would attain great joy in cutting your life abruptly short.”

“What’s…?”

Immediately he snapped his mouth closed aware that he was about to ask a question. Akeem smirked as he attempted to bait him, “Oh do go on Anthony. What was your question? I know you want to ask it, so please do.”

He remained stubbornly silent refusing to play the bastard’s game, and continued to listen to the sounds seemingly coming from above them. Hearing what sounded like the rapid report of gunfire interlaced with explosions and mortar fire his mind quickly analyzed facts and information he thought he knew combined with a healthy dose of suspicion. He wasn’t certain where he was. His captors had mentioned that he was smuggled across international borders, which implied he was no longer in the states. If he wasn’t in the states he was overseas somewhere and had a very bad feeling of just where that might be. 

As another report of gunfire could be heard interlaced with what sounded like cries of desperation his heart thudded in his chest. There were only a few places such sounds would be heard: battlefields and war zones. If he had to hazard a guess that would place him no doubt dead center _in_ a war zone, which would make any attempt at a rescue damned near impossible.

As if sensing the direction his thoughts were traveling the colonel confirmed, “Yes you are in a rather active war zone, Agent DiNozzo. It is one of the reasons we are so certain that a rescue attempt for you will not be made. After all who would risk sending troops into a hot zone just to rescue one missing NCIS agent?”

To add to the taunt Akeem said, “We picked this place out just for you. At the time we hadn’t expected reinforcements to start moving in and now? Now I fear you are deep in enemy territory. You will find no allies here, my friend, and no one will ever be able to find you. You are lost to them, Anthony. Won’t your boss be so very devastated by that realization? After all, you were like a son to him, no?”

Gritting his teeth he released a haggard breath as the tip of the knife blade was slowly dragged across his bottom lip while Akeem continued his taunting, “Hmm go ahead, Anthony. I dare you to say a word. It would give me great pleasure. Go on. Speak.”

He glowered through the blindfold his hands tightening on the bar he was secured to as he fought to remain still and silent. As the tip sunk slightly into the center of his bottom lip he released a harsh hiss biting his tongue to keep from responding. Moments later he heard Akeem move closer deliberately invading his personal space to the point that he could feel his warm breath on his cheek as he continued, “Mmm that’s it Anthony, speak for me. You know you want to.”

The only response he received was the flaring of nostrils and a tense swallow. After several moments Akeem said, “Well it’s nice to see that you can actually follow directions on occasion, Anthony.”

_Asshole!_

“Now where were we? Oh yes informing you of how thoroughly screwed you are.”

_What a dick!_

“My advice to you, Anthony? Do not dare to hope for a rescue that will never come. You belong to us now, and will remain as such until you have outlived your usefulness…however many years that may take.”

The colonel added his own thoughts on the topic, “And it will take _years_ I assure you, for there is just so much juicy Intel we can gather from you. You’re too tempting to let go. Pity that you are such a valuable asset so deeply entrenched in enemy territory, no?”

Swallowing past the lump forming in his throat he squeezed his hands tighter as he fought the urge to lash out. Fully aware of the consequences now present upon the realization that he was indeed in an active war zone, and determined to not let such knowledge influence him in any way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the next chapter in this story will be delving into some dare I say "dangerous territory"? I feel I need to add this disclaimer at the end of this part and the start of the next. When you read the next chapter you will understand why the precaution is being taken now. This is a standard disclaimer while the one heading the next chapter will be much more detailed:
> 
> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales and incidences are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.


	12. The Playing Field

_Two Weeks Later…_

_Abyei, North Sudan_

The endless hours alone were enough to drive him mad. Some days he toyed with the subtle allure of insanity. Some days he fought against it, resisted and argued. While at other times he’d remain passive and inactive, too tired to do anything else.

The constants were the loneliness, the darkness, the despair and the exhaustion. He valiantly fought against them day after day, night after night knowing to give in to any one of them could equal a death sentence.

Pain was a persistent, rather pesky little friend for it was always with him in some variation or another. Sometimes it would drive him to desolation, pushing him to scream at the top of his lungs giving voice to it. Other times it was subtle, swirling just under the surface making him aware, reminding him it was still very much present. It was so very invasive that he could no longer recall a time when it _wasn’t_ there. It was a constant reminder that his life was no longer his own, that it might never be again. They controlled it. They controlled _him_. Not completely, not fully, but _enough_. 

Hell, he couldn’t even get a damned drink unless they permitted it, and that meant that they held the glass for him, chose when to permit it and withheld it when it served a purpose. They also controlled when and what he ate, as well as how much or how little. Refusal? Refusal led to more abuse as they seemed to take great pleasure in forcing both into him. One too many times rubber tubes were forcibly shoved into his mouth or nose, crammed down his throat and driven into his stomach as he was held violently down or brutally lashed to a chair while some other sinister bastard poured some kind of tasteless slop into it. Well that was one of several crude methods used anyways, and he was exposed to it far too often. Even when his weight loss was not his fault but that of another bastard’s he was once again exposed to the barbaric methods of force feeding. The doctor seemed to get some sick, demented pleasure out of it. Hell, they _all_ seemed to find perverse pleasure in reminding him through extremely aggressive, atrocious means that his life was no longer his own. His independence damned near stripped away.

He existed in constant darkness. They chose when he could see, and what he could see. Time lost all meaning and felt eternal. How long he’d been here he had no idea. Hell, he couldn’t even give an estimate as for him night and day no longer existed. Instead he remained in infinity, unaware of the simple passage of time.

What he _was_ aware of was the constant restrictions placed on him, forced upon him, heaped upon him. His hands always seemed to throb, pain pulsing at a steady constant. His wrists felt severed, sliced to the bone red, raw, forever inflamed. His arms were almost constantly numb, shoulders sometimes so tense, so achy that he _did_ throw his head back and scream. _They_ , of course, were never around to hear it. 

He was kept in a constant state of limbo often so cold that he shuddered, sometimes rather violently. Sometimes he just wanted to weep, but refused to allow such weakness to overcome him. He spent a lot of time in his mind listening to Ducky, speaking with Abby, talking to Jimmy desperately clinging to that threadbare string still connecting him ever so tenuously to the reality beyond his brutal, cruel captivity. He at present simply existed for their amusement, for their precious entertainment.

He was told, reminded constantly, that he would remain here in this desolate prison for years. Told if he would _just_ cooperate, _just_ surrender, give them the answers they sought that they would let him out for a bit. The offer was tempting but meant too many would suffer and die as a result. He couldn’t allow that to happen, so he held on, determined to _never_ give them what they sought, refusing to give in, refusing to ever surrender.

He used to wonder what his friends were doing. Were they missing him? Had they moved on with their lives while he remained stuck, trapped in an inescapable prison with little chance at ever seeing them, freedom, or even sunlight again? Had they given up on him, forgotten him or just simply abandoned him to this hell hole? Did they even care or had they stopped long ago? When those thoughts only increased his despair he actively sought to silence them, choking and suffocating them mercilessly, unable to even entertain the notion that he had been forgotten, left to suffer and die.

He ached and longed for simple things now. He craved such little things too: a soothing touch, company, to hear the voice of a loved one. He craved comfort, desired to feel a natural breeze upon his face, smell the scent of the woods after a rain storm, hear birds chirping, feel the warmth of the sun upon his face, to see _anything_ other than the ever-present darkness his eyes were constantly cast in.

The forced isolation, the endless silence, the infinite darkness, the unending cold, the restricted movements were all enough to push him violently over the edge and each day, or night, or whatever time it was, he could feel a soft nudge push him ever closer to that razor sharp edge. He feared one day that he’d fall off and that, _that_ is one of the things that kept him going, pushing him to fight another day for he knew if he allowed himself to there would be no coming back from it. He would become forever lost, and he just _couldn’t_ allow that to happen, so he remained trapped: forever in pain, forever in torment, his purpose in life to suffer severe injustices heaped upon him all in the name of control. All to make him fail, to make him break, to make him _talk_. All to trap him forever as their prized pet. His life was presently one of extreme suffering, eternal anguish and constant despair, and there appeared to be no light at the end of the ever narrowing tunnel, but he would persevere…even if it killed him.

**

_Abyei, North Sudan_

Answering the phone with a smile in his voice he greeted, “Well hello, dear sister. How have things been progressing on the other side of the pond?”

“These people are driving me crazy, brother. They are all so self-absorbed in their own little worlds. They see _nothing_.”

“Which is an advantage for us, no?”

Sighing she answered, “Yes but it is still so infuriating.”

“Anything of interest to report?”

“I have been doing some more, how do you say? _Digging_ , and I can tell you one thing, brother, our boy is most definitely keeping secrets. It may be time to push him much harder.”

“What makes you so certain?”

“He knows more than he has revealed. He is also very good at misdirection.”

“Yes _that_ I have noticed.”

“He has not yet told you anything has he?”

Her brother’s silence was enough of a giveaway. She continued, “I have warned you about him.”

“Yes you have.”

“He has much information. I am certain.”

“Yes, you have said that as well.”

“You are one of our best. You have not yet made _any_ progress?”

“He is most stubborn.”

“Yes, unfortunately that is part of his nature.”

“Well at least he is an interesting challenge.”

Silence greeted him. He interrupted it, “No one suspects?”

“Not that I am aware.”

“But you were so certain.”

“I believe he may have discovered there was a spy here, but he was unfortunately detained before he could ascertain the identity of said spy.”

“We have been thoroughly questioning him on many things. Spies in our midst is a common line of questioning. He claims to have no knowledge of such things.”

“Why do I not believe that?” silence answered her before she continued asking, “When shall we change the game?”

“What do you have in mind, sister of mine?”

“Oh I think you know.”

“You are ready to show your hand, so soon?”

“He will insist on interrogation where I could have such delicious fun baiting him.”

“You just want to throw it in his face that he has been a fool.”

“Why yes, dear brother. I would greatly enjoy watching him squirm.”

“You are evil.”

“I am what he has made me, as are you.”

“He has still not made the connection?”

“I believe he is a bit too distracted to try.”

“Has he even compiled a list?”

“Not that I am aware.”

“I am disappointed.”

“As am I.”

“I expected much more from him.”

“Yes, but enough about him. Tell me more about our friend. How is he behaving?”

“As I have mentioned he is most interesting, so full of fire, determination, rage… It has been a pleasure to work on him.”

“He sounds more interesting than the supposed ‘great leader’ we have all heard so very much about.”

“Perhaps your assessment of him was correct.”

“My assessment?”

“He keeps the team together, eliminating him sure seems to have impacted the hallowed leader.”

“Yes he does not seem to function as well minus his SFA. I fear the temporary replacement just doesn’t cut it.”

“Ah come now, sis, I thought you liked him.”

“I do but there is no brilliant fire as you say you have observed in our friend. No, he is just not the same. Pity that… So how are things on the home front?”

“Heating up. They have been discussing moving the base of operations here and increasing the air strikes.”

“Are you to be deployed?”

“No I am serving my country here by managing and subverting an intelligence asset.”

“Careful, brother, that intelligence asset has fangs and they are most definitely sharp.”

“And that is what makes things interesting, even took another bite out of good old Ingma.”

_"Another?”_

“Oh yes and he was _most_ displeased, threatened to muzzle him.”

“Perhaps he should learn not to place his fingers where they are not wanted.”

He chuckled. 

“You do realize that he may never break.”

“Oh but it sure will be fun to try…and who knows I just may get through.”

“Doubtful, the bastard is too damned loyal for his own good.”

“Perhaps we just haven’t applied the right amount of pressure yet.”

“Perhaps.”

“They have sent us Colonel Abdoo.”

“Then they are _definitely_ intending to move more…backup into place. Have things become that unstable?”

“Yes.”

“I see. You had better be careful.”

“Always am.”

“Speaking of the Colonel how do _they_ get along?”

Her brother cackled before answering, “Oh about as well as a lion and a zebra, like fire and ice.”

“Most interesting, so out of sheer curiosity, brother, who is the predator and who is the prey?”

“That seems to be an ongoing battle between the two of them. He permits him far too much leash in my opinion.”

“What?”

“They seem to share a…how shall I say it? Intensely _dynamic_ relationship?”

“Meaning?”

“I believe that they could have been friends if the situation were different, but circumstances have made them rivals.”

“Sounds fascinating.”

“Yes. They are both complex, and neither are willing to back down.”

“Bet that makes the Colonel extremely happy.”

“Oh yes. He already considers him a worthy adversary, and has stated that he has not had such interesting prey in a very long time.”

“And our friend?”

“Has no desire to be prey. I believe he took great offense to being referred to as such.”

“Of that I have no doubt.”

“How well did you know him?”

“I merely observed him. He was not one of my direct targets. He was just a very persistent barricade that I had to work my way around.”

“Ah it was an order then?”

“Yes. I was not to engage for _any_ reason. _He_ insisted upon it, said it would interfere with his plans.”

“I see.”

Hearing the sudden onslaught of distant thunder he said, “Duty calls, sister of mine. The next air strike is beginning.”

“You take care of yourself, dear brother. I shall call you when I am able.”

“Until then you stay safe as well. You are in enemy territory, and you are preparing for a bold strike. I wish you luck.”

“And I you.”

As the phone call ended Akeem smirked, his gaze lifting to the ceiling, as he listened to the oncoming storm just starting to brew.

****

_NCIS Headquarters – The Bull Pen_

He heard him before he saw him, the persistent stride heading directly for him unmistakable. His first instinct was to duck and run for cover for he knew that this particular confrontation would be unpleasant. Shifting his gaze to his partner he noticed that she too seemed suddenly edgy. She sat up straighter in her seat, leaned closer to her monitor suddenly appearing deeply focused and cast her eyes briefly his direction before purposely lowering them back to her monitor.

Moments later their boss halted before him demanding, voice rising an octave, a spasm of irritation crossing his face, “MCGEE, WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?” before violently chucking a sheaf of papers onto his keyboard. 

Startling briefly, McGee quickly suppressed the sudden wave of acid welling up in his stomach. Quietly sighing as he resisted his internal urge to cringe from the man’s overt hostility. He had never realized just _how_ virulent his boss’ mood could be. He became downright nasty at times, overly demanding, insistent and loud. _How_ had Tony ever dealt with the man’s temper and rage all these years? How had he tolerated it without snapping right back? Did Tony just have a stronger backbone than him or what? What was he doing wrong? Had he just not noticed the temper and belligerence before? Did Gibbs _always_ demand as much from Tony as he seemed to from him? 

He had been excited when Gibbs had started giving him duties that were done by the SFA of the team. He had felt so proud of himself. He had sat up straighter, paid more attention. He was determined to be _better_ than Tony DiNozzo. He thought for sure he could, but soon he found himself barely managing to keep his head above water. The sheer amount of paperwork was enough to drag him kicking and screaming into the deep, dark depths. Expectations were constantly piled upon him, and just when he felt like he was finally gaining a foothold Gibbs would thrust another thing at him. He would flounder dangerously, nearly toppling back down the steep cliff he had just traversed. Sometimes he would find stable ground but most of the time he kept right on teetering. He was at times very angry with Tony, for he had made all of this, hell _everything_ , look so damned easy when in reality it was much too much for one person to handle. 

Matters were made worse as he not only had to deal with a constantly angry, demanding, short-tempered Gibbs but it was _combined_ with a Ziva David whose moods now randomly swung as freely as a pendulum back and forth, from one extreme to the next. It was tiring, hell it was downright _exhausting_. How the hell was he to keep a team functioning and together when there were such intense variants among them? How had Tony managed all of this for so many years? This job, what Tony had apparently done effortlessly, was _damned_ hard. 

Suddenly becoming aware of the intense glare now directed his way he flushed. Reminding himself, for what must be the thousandth time, that Gibbs was a moody bastard. Choosing his words carefully he responded with a quiet, “It’s my report, boss. I…”

“Redo it.”

“What?”

“Needs redone.”

Flustered now he informed, “But boss I…”

“I don’t care, McGee. I want it redone and back on my desk within the hour.”

Angrier now, less cowed he snapped, “But Tony always…”

Vance, having been drawn to the bull pen by the yelling, chose that particular moment to interject on yet _another_ of the many tirades that now seemed to occur daily between Gibbs and his two junior agents, “And he spent countless hours afterwards correcting and practically rewriting them…on _his own time_.”

“No he…”

“Yes, Agent McGee, he did.”

McGee fished for a response, but couldn’t come up with one. Vance continued, “I can attest to the fact that he spent numerous hours after shift’s end correcting _and_ rewriting the unacceptable paperwork you and Agent David submitted to him on a daily basis.”

“And I _know_ his handwriting, McGee. I know he’s been doing it for some time. That stops NOW. You both will learn to write acceptable, PROPER reports and submit them in a timely fashion. _When_ , yes I said **when** , he comes back you will continue to do so. There will be no more passing your work to him. We’re a team. It’s far passed time we all start ACTING like one! Now redo that report, and hand it to me _within_ the hour.”

McGee opened his mouth to speak but Gibbs railroaded him with, “And DON’T you dare try to tell me you have no idea how to either. One of Tony’s many jobs is to train junior agents, and I KNOW that he trained both of you adequately. There is no room for excuses, not anymore.”

“Uh…”

“I suggest you get to work.”

“But…”

“I’m getting coffee,” Gibbs abruptly turned and walked away. McGee was left half stunned and turned to Vance to say his piece. Vance, much like Gibbs, stopped the reply in its tracks with a firm, “No. I don’t want to hear your excuses. You have both been here long enough to know what your jobs entail, and you are being paid to do it. I highly suggest that you do it adequately, without complaint, and do your fair share. The slacking off, the shuffling your work load onto your partner because you _knew_ that he’d do it is at an official end. Neither of you will be getting a free pass any longer. You do the work that is expected of you, and you do it up to standard. You **will not** be piling your work back onto Agent DiNozzo when we get him back. Is that understood?”

McGee gaped staring at the Director in shock and flinching when he snapped, “Is that understood, Agent McGee?"

“Uh yes, yes sir.”

Arching a brow at McGee while staring him down, he addressed the woman behind him, “Agent David?”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good.”

With that Vance also walked away. McGee looked at Ziva who simply said, “They are right, McGee. We have been relying too heavily on Tony to do our work for us. It is time that we do our own.”

“No. We…”

“WE took advantage of him. We used him because we knew that he would give us leeway. We are lucky that both the Director and Gibbs are willing to give us a second chance.”

“What? But…”

“If we fail to do as told I have no doubt that both Gibbs and the Director will demand our badges. We need to _fix_ our mistakes not ignore them in hopes that they will go away. We made our bed and now we must sleep in it.”

“Lie, Ziva. It’s lie in it.”

“Yes that is what I said.”

“No you… Nevermind.”

Gazing ominously at the scattered stack of papers now covering his keyboard he huffed in frustration. Now he had yet _another_ thing that needed to be done and this one came with a time limit. Not for the first time his mind drifted to Tony. They needed to get him back. It appeared they really did _need him_ after all, for without him they seemed to be falling apart. The ticking time bombs that were his partner and boss needed to be diffused soon or they would all implode and apparently only Tony knew the tricks to diffusing them both. Glancing up at the ceiling he softly whispered, “Tony, where are you? We need you. Hell, _I_ need you.” 

He was lost without him, unsure of himself, nervous, anxious. He needed Tony’s support, his ability to calm any oncoming storm. His outlook on life, the way he could crack the tension in the room with his sense of humor alone… It was so glaringly obvious that they _all_ needed Tony DiNozzo, for without him they, all of them, were floundering, teetering on the brink of sheer devastation. 

****

_NCIS Headquarters – Abby’s Lab_

Entering the forensics lab he drew in a calming breath. His anger at his two junior agents still boiling beneath the surface. It was all his fault. He had allowed them to become so lax in their jobs. He had allowed them to push all of their work onto his SFA. It was yet another thing he owed Tony a huge apology for. 

Shaking his head in an attempt to silence his taunting, persistent thoughts he focused on the narrow back of his forensic scientist inquiring, “Abby you got _anything_ for me?”

Casting a furtive glance over her shoulder she answered, "Patience, Gibbs. These things take time.”

“It’s been over a week…”

“And I’m pushing my babies as hard as I can. Forensics is not an instant science. We need to be patient.”

Panic briefly flared within and before he could rein it in he announced, “Abs we’re _losing_ him! The longer we delay the more…” She instantly approached wrapping her arms around him, hugging him and halting his comment in mid-delivery reassuring, “I know but we’re doing the best we can.”

Feeling the unexpected panic rapidly abate he spoke calmer, “Have you found anything?”

Turning to her table of bagged evidence she quickly retrieved one. Gibbs recognizing Tony’s wallet immediately leaned forward to gaze at it as she informed, “Behold exhibit A…”

“Tony’s wallet…”

“I re-examined it like you asked.” Directing him towards her console she continued, “And you were right. There was more to his wallet then meets the eye.”

“Meaning?”

“I found something.”

“What did you find, Abs?”

“I found a message.”

“Another one?”

“Well it’s not really a message per say, more like a notation in tiny letters on the back of his CPR card.”

Hitting a few keys on the keyboard she brought up the image of the back of Tony’s CPR card and pointed to what looked like small scratches deeply etched into the paper. She continued, “Upon closer examination I realized these aren’t scratches at all.”

“Then what are they?” he asked leaning closer to the image studying the marks intently.

Hitting a few more keys she enlarged the image revealing what looked like a…, “Street address, Abby?”

“Yes and it’s nearby.”

“He left us a street address.”

“Yes. The address belongs to an abandoned hospital on the edge of town.”

“Do you have…?”

She handed him a piece of paper answering, “St. Elizabeth’s Hospital.”

Gibbs looked up momentarily surprised before saying what he was thinking, “Another abandoned property?”

“Yes this one in DC…and Gibbs, it was a psychiatric hospital.”

“And let me guess this particular one has a gruesome history as well?”

“Yes. I’m afraid it does.”

“ _That’s_ no coincidence.”

“No. It’s not.”

Pushing the disturbing thoughts now tormenting him to the back of his mind he refocused on Abby asking, “Got anything else for me, Abs?”

“Of course. I’ve been going over the evidence found at the second crime scene and have determined our shooter’s weapon of choice...”

“Which is?”

“Uses standard 9x19 Parabellum ammo...”

“Most modern guns do now Abs.”

“But _that_ isn’t the surprise.”

“So what is?”

“Our baby is a CZ 75 SP-01 Phantom. It’s a semi-automatic pistol designed and produced in…take a guess.”

“Abs…”

“Come on. Humor me.”

“Abby.”

Sighing she answered, “Czechoslovakia.”

“The Czech Republic?”

“It was created in 1976 and manufactured by the Ceska Zbrojovka Firearms Company. Primarily used by law enforcement and military. It has a polymer frame and comes with an 18 round 9mm magazine. The weapon was discontinued in 2013. In fact there was a recall on them.”

“A recall? Why?”

“They wanted their weapons back. It was the standard sidearm of the Czech Armed Forces.”

“Where is it most commonly found?”

“The CZ 75 and many of the model variants have turned up in the Czech Republic, Turkey, Russia, China, Thailand, Iraq, Israel, Sudan and even the US to name a few. It was a rather popular model among police, military and special forces.”

“How easy are they to come by?”

“Well they’re a popular model even today but when they were discontinued they became more difficult to acquire. Now they can be found more easily and the cost usually ranges between six to seven hundred dollars.”

Nodding he continued speaking his thoughts aloud, “Why this particular model?”

“What?”

“Was it just chance they selected to execute her using that particular weapon or…”

“Well considering that our revenge seeker is a planner I’d say the weapon used was chosen for a specific purpose. In fact the more I study the evidence we have the more I believe he’s trying to tell us something in _everything_ he does.”

“He wants his revenge, and he’s determined to get it no matter how long it takes."

“Yes.”

“Okay so if that is the case then what’s he trying to tell us? Why leave behind a plastic sealed ID and brass?”

“Why kill Tony’s friend near his home and then drive two hours away to leave her and the car in the garage of an abandoned insane asylum? I mean really _why_ an asylum when he could have simply left it in a junkyard or on a back road?”

“Wish I knew Abs.”

“He chose an _asylum_ on a _military base_.”

“Our jurisdiction… He knew we’d be called out for it.”

Fornell having entered at the tail end of the conversation and catching their last exchange added his own thoughts into the discussion, “I’ve been thinking about that.”

“Tobias?”

“He’s leaving us a lot of random clues: unpoliced brass, her ID, DiNozzo’s ID, a needle, a bat… Why? Why go through all that trouble weeks, sometimes even months, after the initial crime takes place? What if the reason is that they _aren’t_ random at all? What if he’s deliberately leaving things behind as Miss Scuito just said? What if he’s trying to send you a message in every move he makes?”

“Sounds a little far-fetched…”

Abby interrupted then, “Does it? Even you said that the crimes seem to be premeditated.”

“And what criminal do you know leaves behind so much trace evidence months after committing the initial crimes? There has to be a reason for what he’s doing.”

“Revenge, plain and simple. We’ve already determined his motive.”

“It seems like he’s trying to tell and show us what he’s done, what he’s _actually_ capable of. What if nothing is truly random? What if he’s been telling us stuff this whole time…and we’ve been simply…”

“Missing the messages.”

“Yes.”

“How long have you been cooking up this theory, Tobias?”

“Since I discovered that my original crime scene was completely staged. Whoever he is, he’s going through a lot of trouble and effort just to get and keep your attention. He’s very patient and meticulous. There are definite indicators that a lot of pre-planning went into this whole thing. He has a plan of action that’s leading up to something, but just what that is we have no idea.”

“A final confrontation.”

“Well that’s inevitable at this stage in the game, Gibbs. He ensured that by taking DiNozzo.”

“He’s been baiting me. Leaving little hints and clues…”

“I think we need to take a step back. Look at the piles of evidence we’ve accrued, read back through the reports and see if we can’t find a definitive pattern or goal in the things he’s left behind. He wants an obvious final confrontation, so he’s most likely leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for us to follow. How else would he get his ultimate face off with you? He’d need to lure you, guide you to where he is, where he wants to have his final showdown.”

Silence preceded those words before Gibbs broke it with a quiet, “Do you think part of his goal is to kill Tony?”

“No. No. He wants him alive, needs to keep him alive. May have been ordered to do so.”

“By who and why?”

“As we’ve stated several times there’s a lot more to this than you realize, Gibbs, and you need to also remember…”

“What, Tobias, what?”

“That he was **actively** targeted. Someone _wanted_ to get their hands on him. Most likely for Intel. I think the last thing on their mind is killing him.”

“At this point, Tobias, I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing…”

“Gibbs…”

“Well he’s not on a vacation, Toby. They’re not going to put him in a room with bed and satin sheets now are they?”

Hearing the underlying tension, fear and worry in Gibbs tone that he refused to actively admit to Fornell assured, “We’ll find him, Gibbs, and we’ll bring him home.”

Gibbs released a tense breath lowering his gaze to the floor and closing his eyes shut reminding himself that there was still hope. As long as their goal was to keep Tony alive there was always the hope that one day they would find him and bring him home. His goal right now was to remain positive and continue to do whatever the hell it took to get his missing agent back. Everything else they would deal with as it came.

****

_Washington DC -- St. Elizabeth’s Hospital_

They headed to St. Elizabeth's Hospital as soon as they were able opting to wait until morning to make the visit. Now as they pulled in front of the building McGee shifted his gaze upwards at the towering five story red brick structure. Surprisingly it appeared to be in relatively sound shape. Many of the windows were covered by what appeared to be large metal plates, instead of the normal wooden boards that were often used to close up abandoned places. The grounds were also in relatively decent shape as if someone occasionally mowed the grass and performed basic maintenance and upkeep on the place. 

Glancing once more at the paper in his hand he reread the address then turned informing, “This is the address Abby gave us.”

“St. Elizabeth’s Hospital.”

“Another abandoned property with a riddled history.”

“What did you find out about this place, Tim?”

Rubbing the back of his neck he turned to again affix his gaze on the vivid red building answering, “It was a psychiatric hospital, like Abby said. One of the first in American history actually. At the time it was known as the ‘Government Hospital for the Insane’. Doors opened in 1855. The history doesn’t get extremely interesting until the early forties when rumors spread that the CIA was using the place to conduct experiments.”

“What kind of experiments, McGee?”

“Testing mainly.”

“Testing?”

“Truth serums, interrogative techniques and later mind control. They apparently used German war prisoners as their guinea pigs. As for the mentally ill patients, the main forms of treatment administered was electroshock therapy and lobotomies, but unlike Forest Haven they had a reputation for being more _humane_. The hospital actually housed over 8,000 people at one time and closed its doors several years ago. Plans have since been made to redevelop it, but nothing’s been done yet. It basically sits empty and neglected now.”

“All right. Let’s go.”

Nodding Tim and Ziva drew their weapons in preparation to clear the building. All of them uncertain and unsure of why they were even led here in the first place.

Entering as a unit the first thing they became aware of was the faint smell of rotting flesh, obviously the address had led them to a body. The question now was just _whose_ and why? The air itself was stagnant and rancid, the pungent scents of rotting flesh mixing, interlaced with that of mold and decay. Instinctively they all covered their noses in a futile attempt to block it out. 

The second thing they became aware of was just how damp and chilly the building itself felt. The air was heavy with moisture. The chill biting as it seemed to penetrate through skin into their very bones. Areas of the floor exhibited obvious indicators of dark staining by water and distinct marks could be seen on the walls where rain most likely leaked in around the windows to roll lazily downwards.

Quietly they made their way down a dark hallway, flanked on each side by walls of peeling paint and several wooden doors that were propped half-open leading into barren empty rooms. Drawing ever-closer to the one closed door in the entire hallway McGee broke the silence whispering, “Think the smell’s originating from the other side of this door, boss.”

Gibbs agreeing with the statement nodded and encouraged, “Well go on McGee, lead the way.”

He glanced at his boss anxiously before nodding and stepping forward. Easing the knob slowly to the right he made direct eye contact with first Gibbs then Ziva. When all nodded he pushed the door open and entered. 

Quickly ascertaining that the room was clear of any threats they each took the time to look around. What they saw had all three of them paling and feeling extremely nauseous. The smell of rotting flesh was much stronger and on the floor against the far wall opposite the door was an obvious body. The body they could handle with little difficulty. It was what lay between them _and_ that body that had them all feeling ill.

McGee swallowed hard before boldly stating, “Think this is the Autopsy Viewing Area, boss.”

Pointing to the metal table that appeared to be covered in some kind of liquid, flanked by a row of storage cabinets leading to tiered plastic chairs that were bracketed behind by bookshelves, filing cabinets and shelves lined in old apothecary bottles Gibbs could only manage a soft, “You think, McGee?” 

The room temperature was much colder than the rest of the building. It felt almost like a refrigeration unit, not surprising since apparently it used to be an autopsy room. McGee was focused intently on the silver metal table in the center of the room aware that the puddled liquid there was most likely blood and bodily fluids. Licking his now dry lips he managed a quiet, “They were trying to preserve the body.”

“What makes you say that, McGee?”

“Room temperature.”

“It is like an ice box in here.”

“Yeah. All autopsy rooms are.”

“But this one has been empty for years.”

“Apparently not.”

Gibbs continued his own scan of the room chills recognizable by the goosebumps and hairs now rising on end across his skin. The floor was tiled red, the walls painted a sickly sea green. Above the metal table were two large overhead lights and to the right a table covered in various sharp blades, razors and even a bone cutting saw. All of them, with the exception of the saw, looking as if they had been recently used. It was quite obvious, even without those items being present, that the person who was lying against the far wall had most likely been tortured to death. 

Swallowing passed the lump presently forming in his throat he quickly walked by the metal table deliberately distracting himself from the obvious liquid puddled on the silver grey surface by making a grand production of putting on rubber gloves. Once to the man he tried to focus solely on him, unable to successfully ignore the isolated toilet so near him or the fact that he appeared to have had enough chain to at least use the facilities when necessary. It spoke of long-term captivity and horrible circumstances. 

Lowering beside the chained naked man he pressed two fingers to his neck but found no pulse. He was, in fact, dead. Trying to breathe through his still somersaulting stomach, he forced out a terse, “McGee call Ducky…. Ziva, get the camera, start taking photographs.”

McGee nodded quickly exiting the room while pulling on rubber gloves of his own. His intent to call Ducky and retrieve the fingerprint identifier still in the truck.

Ziva, however, remained rooted firmly in place actively glancing around the interior of the bland room and paling as her eyes settled on the nearest set of metal cabinets. The side nearest her had a lengthy white tray resting upon it near a spigot with a reddish brown liquid lying in the bottom of it. Blanketed on either side was a set of scalpels, needles, bottles and metal files. From her vantage point she could see one of them was labeled “Rubbing Alcohol” and another “Laudanum”. There was also a half empty syringe lying next to a vial that still had liquid in it. Unable to look at the obvious instruments of torture any longer she focused on their victim. As she did the room began to feel warm, suffocating and more compact, as if the walls were actively closing in around her. She immediately squeezed her eyes shut trying unsuccessfully to push those feelings away mentally urging herself to relax and calm down. As the queasiness seemed to abate she opened her eyes again this time gasping aloud as her vision narrowed, now transfixing on the crude metal table covered in liquid. Unexpectedly her mind began tossing memories of her time in Somalia to the forefront, but she wasn’t just seeing herself she was also seeing Tony. 

Shuddering violently she jerked her head up as Gibbs spoke, but what he was saying wasn’t even registering. In fact, the room seemed to be whiting out around her, her ears filling rapidly with the pounding of her heartbeat, mixing with a gushing sound that rapidly merged into a steady, persistent buzz. Squeezing her eyes shut again she saw flashes of blackness before reaching out desperately to grab onto something, anything, as the feeling of falling entered in. A hand suddenly squeezing her shoulder and an arm wrapping firmly about her waist brought her attention snapping rapidly back. Jumping in surprise, she whirled around her gun cocked and ready, her head throbbing in sudden protest of the movement. Releasing a soft whimper as the pain in her head hit a crescendo she once again squeezed her eyes shut. Soon becoming aware that her breathing was too fast, too harsh. Forcing herself to calm down her awareness began to once again trickle in, her attention now drawn to the persistent voice repeatedly calling her name. 

Forcing her eyes open once more she quickly realized that it was Gibbs who had been calling, and was now staring intently at her. Seeing the mix of concern and worry present in his eyes she carefully drew in several more deep calming breaths before lowering her weapon and harshly insisting, “I am okay.”

Gibbs continued to stare intently at her making her far too aware that he knew she was lying to him. Brushing off his concern she shrugged out of his arms abruptly announcing, “I will get the camera,” before hastily turning away.

Gibbs spoke her name again making her halt in her tracks. Keeping her back to him she listened as he offered, “Ziva if you can’t do this…”

“I am fine.”

McGee entered halting when Gibbs focused on him asking, “McGee can you take photos?”

He glanced at Gibbs then a tense, distracted Ziva. Seeing she was a mix between angry and upset he nodded saying softly, “Yeah boss, I can do that.”

“Good.”

“Ducky will be here shortly.”

Nodding he returned his focus to Ziva gently ordering, “Ziva do a sweep of the perimeter then come back to help McGee.”

She wanted to refuse, to again state she was fine but in reality she was relieved. Gibbs knew she was upset and was giving her the chance and the time to regroup. Nodding she exited the room without a backwards glance.

Once gone Gibbs focused on McGee who was now crouched beside their victim. He was intently focused on something prompting Gibbs to open his mouth and question when McGee suddenly gasped saying, “Uh boss…I think you _need_ to see this.”

Noting the sudden pallor of his other junior agent he slowly approached. Obviously this scene was going to be quite the challenge for both of them and looking at the victim he could understand why. He had obviously been tortured and that was just striking way too close to home for all of them. Softening his voice he approached asking, “What is it, McGee?”

Tim turned to look up at him his face even paler. Sucking in a breath he informed, “Our victim left us a message.”

“What?”

“And it’s, it looks like it’s in his own blood.”

“What does it say, McGee? _McGee!_ "

Inhaling a shaky breath and bracing himself he turned shining his flashlight on the trim near where the floor and wall met. He couldn’t speak so he simply pointed. As Gibbs lowered to peer over his shoulder he too suddenly froze chills traveling up his spine as he read the cryptic message painstakingly written by their victim, “Protect…”

“Tony, boss. It says _'Protect Tony'_.”

The ambience of the room suddenly became even more oppressive and menacing than it had been upon arrival. Nibbling gently on his bottom lip McGee paused asking, “Boss, you don’t think…?”

“Yes I do, Tim.”

“But…”

“This address was found in Tony’s wallet. I don’t believe that was a mere coincidence and considering that message…”

“What did Tony get himself into, boss?”

“Still trying to figure that out, Tim.”

Ziva entered the room again halting when she noticed both Gibbs and McGee bent over the body, their complexions both looking waxy. Drawing in a calming breath she asked, “What are the two of you looking at?”

“Nothing,” was Tim’s immediate reply which had her approaching. McGee was quick to stand up halting her as he said, “Ziva, you might not want to see this.”

“What is it, McGee?”

“Our victim left us a message…and it…”

Peering over his shoulder she saw the words as they were still highlighted by a flashlight now in Gibbs’ hands. As she read them she suddenly felt faint and angry at herself for feeling that way. She focused intently on McGee unable to speak. He nodded continuing “We think they’re connected.”

Gibbs interrupted then, “McGee, get his fingerprints.”

Instantly moving to the body and lowering, he gently grasped the man’s right hand deliberately avoiding focusing too intently on the bloodied pointer finger and selecting a different finger for identification purposes. Biting back the sudden taste of bile filling his mouth he pressed the finger firmly onto the scanning pad. Watching the device rapidly process the print he tensed as an image suddenly appeared. Reading the name of their victim he closed his eyes. Gibbs noting his sudden tension asked, “Well?”

“Boss…”

“Yeah?”

“He’s one of _ours_.”

“Who? Who is he, McGee?”

“NCIS Special Agent Kaden Jakand.”

“Damn.”

“Boss that’s a pretty good indicator that the two are most likely…”

“Connected, I know Tim, but how? How does Tony’s disappearance link to this particular agent?”

“Well seeing that he felt it necessary to leave us that message before dying…”

“He knew something, had to.”

“He knew that Tony was in danger.”

“And he tried to warn us.”

“Why do I suddenly get the feeling that there’s more going on here than meets the eye?”

“It’s the investigator in us, McGee. We’re _always_ looking for more.”

“It’s just, something’s not right. Why lead us here? Why put that address into Tony’s wallet for us to find? What’s the purpose? What’s his goal? Why lead us to someone who is warning us that we need to protect Tony?”

“Maybe he didn’t know that our victim was _able_ to leave a message.”

Ziva spoke up then, “You believe he was left here to die?”

“Or he died prematurely.”

“No, no. It doesn’t make sense. We were led here for a reason. If it wasn’t to find one of our own dead…”

“Then it was to find one of our own severely tortured and struggling to survive.”

“That’s sadistic.”

Ziva suggested, “Perhaps they were unable to gather any further information from him, so they left him behind.”

“Then why leave this address in _Tony’s wallet_ when they had no way of knowing when we would find it.”

"Or even _if_ we would find it." 

McGee offered an unsettling answer, “Because they’ve been keeping him imprisoned here since Tony’s disappearance.”

All three shuddered in response to that cryptic suggestion. Gibbs added, “It would explain why he was given enough chain to comfortably use the facilities.”

“And why it looks as if he had spent as much time lying here as he obviously had on _that_ table.”

The information made them all feel extremely queasy yet again. All three of their minds spinning, formulating, offering suggestions of just what this man had suffered in that length of time. The only thing that silenced their troubling thoughts was the sudden arrival of Ducky and Palmer preceded by the latter simply stating, “What a horrid place to die.”

And the former responding, “It’s an autopsy room, Mister Palmer. I dare say it is most ill-fitting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purpose of the story some of the history of St. Elizabeth's Hospital in Washington DC has been slightly altered.
> 
> St. Elizabeth's Hospital closed its doors and remained an abandoned property for several years. It has since reopened and has been moved to a new location. Some of the former grounds are scheduled for redevelopment to house the new HQ for Homeland Security.
> 
> The room our team finds the body in was actually the Autopsy Theater in the former hospital where lobotomies were also apparently performed. The description of the room itself was based on multiple photographs found of when it was abandoned. All other details are as accurate as I could make them right down to Tim's description of one of the main buildings, and the rumor that it was used by the CIA for testing and experiments in the early forties.


	13. Cautionary Tale

_Abyei, North Sudan_

He had never imagined that it would be like this. He had watched him, studied him, read all the information he could find about him. He knew from the moment he first saw him that he was it. He was _the one_ , his _ultimate_ prey.

He would be spectacular. The trophy that would make all others seemingly pale in comparison.

Never had he imagined how deliciously satisfying it would be to finally see him strung up before him. Fully displayed in all his glory, like a prized bull dangling from a meat hook in preparation for butchering. He could almost visualize the dotted lines indicating just where to slice to dress his flesh.

He could taste it now, feel the pleasure tingling just below the surface, his body nearly trembling in anticipation for their next battle of wills. Who would win was still up for debate, but each battle they undertook was ultimately worth all the trouble it had taken to acquire him.

He had never expected his original directive to alter so much. Now instead of simply caging and displaying him as his ultimate conquest he desired so much more. He wanted to keep him, to toy with him and challenge him daily. He wanted to pit himself against him time and again to see who would win. It was the epitome of the perfect immortal game of cat and mouse. 

He was so much more now. An equal in strength and wit, with a will that easily rivaled his own. He was dangerous like fire that once ignited would rage into a white-hot inferno, licking, devouring and destroying everything in its path. He was stubborn, inflexible and ruthless when penned in, a direct clash to his hidden depths of compassion, versatility and calm.

He didn’t like to be trapped, and would no doubt resort to biting, snarling, kicking, clawing and spitting to escape. He thrived on catching opponents off-guard, making them underestimate him, lolling them into a false sense of security before closing in for the kill. It was in his ability to downplay his strengths and intelligence that he often would be most successful. Those who dared to misjudge him, fall for the false masks he often exhibited to the world, were truly very foolish for more often than not it led to their ultimate destruction. It was one of the many things he couldn’t help but admire about the man.

Chance had brought them together. Their lives intertwining permanently upon that very first meeting, their very first confrontation. He was brilliant to behold, magnificent to tamper with, a joy to quarrel with. He was everything and more than he had ever expected. His determination to keep him was now firmly entrenched, and he would not be letting him go any time soon.

****  
_NCIS Headquarters – MCRT Bull Pen_

Entering the bull pen Gibbs sighed in frustration and weariness. He had given both McGee and Ziva the rest of the day off as the scene they had just worked was extremely draining on all of them. It had to be one of the most difficult and gruesome they had ever done. They had processed the crime scene in utter silence. No one daring to break the cold, eerie stillness of the room. No one daring to look at the body Ducky and Palmer were actively prepping for transport. No one daring to look at the cryptic bloody message on the wall. It was photographed, he was photographed. Then they all moved on as if in a fog, as if they were lifeless drones, bagging and tagging one thing after another while taking photographs of one of their creepiest crime scenes to date. No one spoke his name or dared to even _think_ of what could be happening to him. No one dared to think about what this room, this latest victim _implied_ was happening to him, for it was much, too much to handle. 

Sadly he was certain that all five of them, including Ducky and Palmer, would have trouble finding any kind of rest tonight. Nightmares would most likely run rampant as they wouldn’t be able to forget about the one still lost to them. No. He would definitely be occupying _all_ of their minds tonight.

He had initially hesitated to release his two younger agents, not sure if it would be a blessing or a curse for them. As he looked at each in turn though he could tell the immense toll that scene was taking on them. They needed to get away, to regroup, and to find some inner peace, some inner calm if that were even possible after today. 

Ever since leaving the scene his own mind had chosen to become his worst enemy sending him graphic pictures of what his SFA must be going through at this very moment, had to have gone through thus far. He’s been missing now a little over five months and A LOT can happen to someone in that amount of time. Based on the crime scene they had just wrapped up he was pretty damned certain that a lot _had_. Unfortunately, or fortunately from some peoples’ perspectives, the human body could take _a lot_ of abuse. He felt only slightly relieved by that realization. It meant that one could take a hell of a lot before it became overwhelming and the body just chose to give up, to shut down. He should be thankful, hell even grateful, that their present goal seemed to be to keep Tony alive. It bought them more time to find him, but the negatives of that goal? So very much could be done to someone before they hit their limit, and so much could be done to ensure that they continued to survive even under the most harrowing of circumstances. His mind was in torment. It was a deep dark pit that dredged up all kinds of crazy, insane things…a natural consequence of having worked in this particular field for so many years.

Sighing again he lifted his head when he heard his phone ring and quickly answered it expecting it to be one of his agents or…

“It seems time ran out for your dear Agent Jakand, and I even gave you plenty to find him.”

“Bastard! Who the hell are you?”

Balboa jerked his head up seeing Gibbs signal him and raced over. Realizing what was going on he quickly started to record the call aware that he was short on agents as he had given the other two the rest of the day off. Looking a mix of worried and concerned he watched as Gibbs seemed to pale and deflate as the voice continued, “Ah well let’s hope next time you have better luck or you may soon be attending another funeral. Your people are so very vulnerable, Agent Gibbs…and they don’t even know it.”

The line went dead and Gibbs looked at Balboa who shook his head. No. The call was too short to trace.

“Damn it!”

Balboa jerked his head up hearing the strain in the older agent’s voice and unsure of what to say or do to ease his present ire. As if he had heard him Gibbs said, “There’s nothing you can do. We need to find the bastard, and we need to find Tony.”

“We will, Agent Gibbs. We will.”

Nodding he thanked him for jumping in and helping then discouragingly mumbled, “I’m going to get some coffee.”

“Sure, Agent Gibbs, sure.”

Watching the man walk away Balboa felt for him. He was a hard man, one who was always in control, always commanded respect and attention but Tony’s absence was making that facade begin to falter and crack. They _needed_ to get him back or the DC MCRT might not remain a coherent team for much longer. There was too much guilt, too much uncertainty and doubt. Each member felt ashamed, guilty and angry. Each member was determined to get back their missing teammate, and each member was getting more and more discouraged the longer one Anthony DiNozzo Junior went missing. They _had_ to find him. There had to be a break in the case soon. Something just _had_ to pan out, and he hoped it would be sooner rather than later.

Sighing he glanced up at the Director’s office only slightly alarmed to see him standing on the balcony watching his disgruntled senior agent make his way to the elevator. The look of concern and worry on the Director’s face was another indicator of just how much the absence of one agent was affecting the whole team.

Shaking his head he softly said, “Oh Tony if you could only see them now you’d realize just how vital you really are.”

****  
_Abyei, North Sudan_

He was being ordered to lower to his knees, and he dreaded where this was leading. Not giving him any time to comply or refuse he felt a blunt object violently strike the backs of his legs driving him down hard onto the floor. Drawing in a shaky breath he snapped, “Anyone ever tell you how impatient you are?”

Akeem sniggered then said, “Do not move, Anthony, or I will do a lot more than that.”

Turning to look at him as if he weren’t wearing the cursed blindfold he continued, “You know you should really work on that.”

“Arms out to your sides.”

“Hmm kind of difficult when they’re presently tied together.”

“That smart mouth of yours will always get you into trouble, Anthony.”

“Probably but it won’t help me extend my arms any faster when they’re secured together _in front of me_ now will it?”

“No, I suppose it will not. I could always just require that you lean back on your heels. Then we would have no need to remove those restraints. Now would we?”

“You have some serious issues, you know that?”

“You will have some serious issues if you do not comply with my orders.”

“You told me to extend my arms. I merely pointed out it wouldn’t be possible when they’re secured together. How is _that_ disobedience?”

“You are testing my patience, Anthony.”

“Yeah, there is that.”

The backhand was expected. As it impacted he flew violently to the right. Slowly righting himself he could taste blood at the corner of his mouth and feel it running freely from his nose. Working his jaw back and forth a few times he said, “Bet you were just _itching_ to do that.”

“You will be silent now, Anthony, or I will silence you.”

“That temper’s going to get you into trouble one of these days.”

The next backhand was also expected, and slowly he recovered from it as well knowing if he pushed Akeem just a little further he’d storm away in outrage…or find an even more sadistic way to torment him than the twisted stress positions he seemed to always be dreaming up. Bastard.

**

Standing outside the cell housing one Anthony DiNozzo Junior he waited for Akeem. Listening to the exchange he was rather disappointed when the younger officer stormed out. As the door loudly banged shut behind him and Akeem haphazardly threw the lock the colonel stepped forward to stop him. Akeem glanced up distractedly before the colonel quietly informed, “You are allowing _him_ to control the situation, Sergeant.”

“Sir?”

Directing him away from the door, and thus as far out of the hearing range of one snarky special agent whom he knew _would_ eavesdrop as he could, he continued, “He pushed you deliberately to see how you would react.”

“No sir he…”

Holding up a hand to silence any further protest he indicated an empty room to step into for more privacy and continued, “How many times have I told you NOT to underestimate him?”

“I…sir.”

“He is experienced in interrogative tactics. He will deliberately push you to anger you, to get a reaction out of you. He knows how far to push you and when to stop.”

“How? He could not possibly…”

“By _studying_ you, of course. We all have tells, some subtle and some not. He has figured out some of yours.”

“He is blindfolded!”

“Our voices can betray us as easily as our bodies, Akeem. He has been kept blindfolded for how long?”

“He…”

“Long enough to focus on our voices. The inflections and words we say, even our breathing patterns can be identified if one listens closely enough. He is an **INVESTIGATOR**. He is trained to pick up on such things.”

“No.”

“How is it he knows just who enters the room when we visit him?”

“He cannot…”

“He can. He knows by _listening_ , our scents also reveal our identities. You have stripped him of one of his five senses, and he has actively compensated for it.”

“But…”

“You are letting him get to you, Akeem.”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are. What just transpired between the two of you?”

“He would not stop speaking.”

“One of his defenses, which you well know.”

“Why does it never bother you?”

“His persistent chatter?”

“Yes.”

“Because I like to banter and with him it is especially enjoyable. He likes to push to see how far he can. He is witty, sarcastic and even quite humorous at times. I WANT that type of an exchange with him.”

“But why?”

“To be honest? He amuses me, and I _like_ to play.”

“You really like him…”

“Whether I like him or not is beside the point. We have a job to do, and we need to **BREAK** him. He has been here for _months_ and has told us NOTHING. Our goal is to find his limits and push beyond them. When we succeed with that we will have made progress. Now go on tell me what you accomplished in that session.”

Shifting nervously he licked his lips answering, “Well I…”

“Did you even apply any pressure?”

“I struck him several times.”

“Okay.”

“You are disappointed.”

“Akeem, you are one of our best, but you must remember that he is one of _their best_ too. He is not an easy one to break, nor will he become any easier.”

“He has been pushing more than before. He has always fought but not so much with words.”

“You implemented heavy threats and punishments for his speaking out of turn, correct?”

“Yes and have punished him severely numerous times for running his mouth, but he no longer seems as cowed by them as he once was.”

The colonel smiled and it was one of the eeriest, smuggest smiles he had ever seen. It unnerved him. Shifting subconsciously from one foot to the other and back he debated whether to press his luck and question the colonel or simply hold his tongue. 

Thankfully the colonel answered his unvoiced question with a simple, “Hmm, he has made his decision then.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“He has decided to continue fighting and not quit just as I expected he would.”

Seeing the puzzled expression on Akeem’s face he continued, “He is a fighter, Akeem, and he has chosen to do so.”

“I do not understand.”

“Every captive goes through a grand choice: to surrender and give up or to live and keep fighting. Our friend has chosen the latter. I was right about him, so very _right_.”

“I still do not…”

“It is a defining moment in every victim of captivity and torture, Akeem. Do you not read?”

“You read books on…”

“ _Everything_ , Akeem. Knowledge is power.”

“Is that not a bit…”

“Sadistic, diabolic? No. If you want to become good at your job then you must read all available texts that will make you _better_ at the job.”

“You are crazy.”

“Yes so it has been said.”

“I do not understand. Why would you…?”

“One of the best ways to learn about the mindset of others, Akeem, is to _learn_ about them. The more you understand their psyches the better you will become at exerting the pressure needed to sufficiently control and sway them.”

“That is…”

“What separates the truly committed from those too afraid to cross the necessary lines…? Yes, perhaps.”

“But…”

“We are at WAR, Akeem. Our people are DYING. We need every advantage we can get in order to protect them, in order to SAVE them. We must acquire Intel to effectively protect and shield our people. It is the only way. All I am doing is exerting excess pressure on those who hold the knowledge I need to do that.”

****  
_NCIS Headquarters – Autopsy_

Entering the autopsy room Ducky approached their latest victim. Palmer had already moved him onto one of the exam tables and was presently taking pictures of his notable injuries for documentation. He had also already turned on the X-ray machine and prepared the instrument tray.

Observing him now he could see how pale his complexion was. He was also nibbling gently on his bottom lip his attention focused fully on the job at hand. Carefully the young man would photograph each individual mark before making notations on a tablet. 

It was already obvious that this autopsy was going to be very difficult for the both of them. Their victims’ as yet unknown link to their missing friend adding to the uncertainty they were all feeling. They all knew that this person could have very well been Anthony DiNozzo, but instead it was an agent that none of them had heard of. The similarities between both men’s situations was extremely obvious as if the one who had done this had left the poor man as a deliberate taunt, a bold announcement to all of just _what_ he was actually capable of.

Shaking his head and drawing in a quick breath he again focused on his young assistant’s strained face all too aware of just why Palmer looked so disturbed by this particular autopsy. It was not a well-known fact: the connection between his assistant and one Anthony DiNozzo Junior. The two rarely spoke about it, about their close friendship, one that had been forged through many years of working together. In fact, very few even knew that they were close and both men were fine with that. 

Anthony had been there for Palmer more times than he could even count. The young man often turned to the older for advice, for a sounding board, for a sympathetic ear. He had seen them multiple times meet up just to go out to dinner simply because they both needed to get away. Anthony was extremely helpful with Breena as well, especially during her pregnancy and the loss of the child they had initially hoped to adopt. He spent a lot more time with his assistant than any one person even realized. The two carpooled together daily, went to games together, spent weekends together and no one was the wiser. No one had _noticed_. Well with the exception of he and Gibbs that is.

Hearing the shaky inhale of a deep breath he knew that it was time he interceded and gently prodded, “How are you, Mister Palmer?

Palmer only startled slightly having heard the man approach but so focused on taking the photographs that he had since tuned him out. Now he glanced up at Doctor Mallard and answered nonchalantly, “Fine just have to take a few more photographs and X-rays, Doctor.”

“No. I am not speaking of the autopsy, Mister Palmer.” That comment brought his head up and his focus fully centered on Doctor Mallard as he questioned, “Well then what, Doctor Mallard?”

Leveling an intense gaze on his assistant he quietly said, “You have said little since he was taken.”

“What?”

“I am talking about Anthony, Mister Palmer. How are you with regards to Anthony?”

Looking down, focusing intently on what he was doing he mumbled, “Fine. I’m fine, Doctor.”

“You miss him.”

It wasn’t a statement. It was a fact.

“Yes. We all do.”

“Mister Palmer…”

“I’m fine, Doctor… So the X-rays?”

“Mister Palmer, I am very much aware of just how close you are to Anthony. The two of you may keep it quiet, but you have become very close friends in a short amount of time. I _know_ his disappearance affects you. I know you worry about him and keep an eye on his home. What you don’t do is _talk_ about it.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Mister Palmer.”

Frustrated and flustered he stopped what he was doing before replying, “Okay. _Yes._ Yes, I miss him. Yes, I worry about him. He’s my friend, Doctor Mallard, and he’s in danger. He’s hurting. He’s in trouble and I’m just… _here_. I feel so damned…”

“Helpless?”

“Yes and I’m…”

“Scared?”

“Yes.”

“The two of you have become extremely close.” 

“Yes. I want him back, Doctor Mallard. I just want him _back_. He’s…he’s like a best friend and an older brother all rolled into one and I…I really miss him.”

“He is very lucky to have you.”

“I’ve always thought I was, am the lucky one.”

Nodding he returned his focus back onto their victim. After several moments he spoke again, “He will need you when we get him back, Mister Palmer.”

“And I intend to be there for him. I’ll do whatever I can to help him, Doctor.”

“I know you will and with Abigail’s help you will both make a huge difference in his recovery.”

“You think so, Doctor?”

“I know so, Mister Palmer. Anthony has never faced something this extreme before. He will need help. I am certain.”

“But will he accept it?”

“Yes, I do believe he will.”

“And if he refuses?”

“You must make certain that he does not.”

“What if he doesn’t trust me to help?”

“Mister Palmer, he made you his general power of attorney, very few know that. He selected you for that very important role, so I would say that you are one of the few that he _does_ trust completely.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Nodding he smiled before his face took on the serious cast as he continued louder, more sure of himself now, “The X-rays, Doctor.”

Ducky smiled to himself before replying, “Let’s see what we have,” once again noticing how his assistant’s friendship with Anthony DiNozzo continued to bolster his self-confidence. They needed to get him back. They all just simply _needed_ him.

**  
_NCIS Headquarters – MCRT Bull Pen_

Returning to the bull pen, fresh cup of coffee in hand, he halted as he saw one of his junior agents sitting at his desk fully focused on whatever he was doing. Frowning he said, “I thought I told you to go home for the day, McGee.”

“Oh you did. I just… I couldn’t… I…”

“Needed to be here?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“Look, boss, Tony is out there somewhere and we have to find him. There’s nothing I can do if I’m sitting at home staring at four walls as my mind plays in techno color all that could be happening to him. I can’t take time off because a crime scene was…”

“I understand.”

“Tony’d do it for us, and you know it.”

Nodding he answered, “Yeah, McGee, he would.”

Focusing intently on his approaching boss he strove to change the subject by informing, “So I’ve been doing some research on our victim…”

“Special Agent Kaden Jakand.”

“Yes.”

“And what did you find?”

“Well unfortunately not much, boss. He was a good agent. Yearly evaluations were all positive, no disciplinary actions taken against him, no formal complaints and he spent a lot of time in Africa, the Middle East mainly…”

“Where was he stationed?”

“The field office in Naples, Italy.”

Nodding he waited for McGee to continue unsurprised when he did, “Kaden Jakand was an undercover operative stationed in Chad, Africa for the last eight years. Most of his work and missions are labeled classified or need to know, so I couldn’t really determine just _what_ he was doing in Chad. I did find out that he graduated the police academy with top marks and pursued a career in Counter Intelligence. He started working for NCIS shortly after and has been based out of Italy his entire career.”

“So how’d he end up in an abandoned hospital in Washington DC?”

“Not sure. He was reported missing in late January…”

“And Tony went missing in early March…”

Snapping his head up in response to that comment he forced out, “Boss, you don’t think…?”

“That he gave his torturer Tony’s name?”

McGee nodded shifting anxiously in his seat and trying to violently block any thoughts of just where they had found Agent Jakand, and what had happened to him from successfully entering his mind. Gibbs sighed in frustration before quietly answering, “Yeah I do.”

“But boss he was trained to resist…”

“Just because you’re trained doesn’t mean you’ll be able to resist, McGee. No one knows how strong they really are until they are placed in such a challenging situation. Some may fight and resist with everything they have, others may only be able to handle so much before they crack. No one really knows how they will behave under duress until they are actually…”

_“Under duress?”_

“Yes.”

“So how’d he know Tony?”

“Was hoping your research would find the connection.”

“There’s nothing even to hint that they knew each other.”

“Oh they knew each other.”

“Obviously but… I’ll keep digging. Hopefully I can find _something_ that links them.”

“I’m going to head down to Autopsy and see what Ducky’s found…and McGee.”

“Yes boss?”

“You find you need to go home…”

“I won’t boss.”

“But if you do…”

“I’ll let you know.”

Nodding he made his way towards the elevator dreading what he would discover in Autopsy about their latest victim.

McGee nodded and returned his focus to his computer screen, once again shuddering as his mind tried to taunt him with what had occurred to the person presently lying in autopsy. No. He would not think about it, and he definitely wouldn’t think about what it meant for his still missing partner. Absolutely not!

Determined to remain firm in that decision he forced all his attention back into discovering just who Kaden Jakand was, and how he was connected to both Tony and his disappearance.

**  
_NCIS Headquarters – Autopsy_

She had every intention of going home as Gibbs had instructed her to do, but soon found herself entering Autopsy. The first thing she noticed was that both men were actively conducting one on their latest victim. Without a sound she slipped into one of the nearby corners leaning against the wall and watching as they worked. It wasn’t long, however, before Ducky noticed her asking, “What brings you here, Ziva?”

She said nothing, eyes rooted to the body on the table, arms wrapped tightly about her, expression blank. He tried again, “Ziva?”

Continuing to focus on the body she spoke, “Is that…?”

“Yes. We’re still documenting our findings…”

“He was tortured, wasn’t he?”

“Ziva perhaps you should…”

“WASN’T HE?”

Sighing he lowered his gaze before nodding and answering, “Yes it does appear that way, but you already knew that. You were with them when he was found...” Nodding she fell silent again. Studying her for several moments he soon questioned, “What are you really doing here? There is nothing here you have not seen before.”

“It is different,” she said so softly that Ducky barely heard her. Deciding to acknowledge that he heard her comment he responded, “You’re worried about Anthony?”

She didn’t answer just looked up at him. Her eyes projecting her thoughts more so than even she was no doubt aware. After several moments he continued, “As well as yourself.”

“I am fine.”

“You are very bothered.”

“No...”

“Ziva, it is all right to admit you are worried and afraid. It’s all right that you are perhaps scared and unsettled.”

“I…”

“You see him and yourself, don’t you?”

“What?”

“When you look at our recently departed Agent Jakand you are not seeing him. You are seeing yourself and Anthony. You see your vulnerability, your mortality, _his_ and it frightens you.”

“No.”

“You pretend that you are fine when often you are not. Things affect us much differently when it becomes personal.”

“I am fine, Ducky.”

“Ziva…”

“Yes I am worried. He is out there somewhere and no one has heard _anything_. It is not normal. We should have heard something…shouldn’t we?”

“Not if they don’t want him found, and I fear such is the case with young Anthony.”

“All we are doing is waiting while he…,” she fell abruptly silent, frustrated. After several moments she continued, “What if we cannot locate him?”

Approaching her he gently grasped her arms reassuring, “We will.”

“What if we are too late?”

“You must not lose hope. You must have faith.”

“What if I can’t?”

“Ziva, do you want to talk about it?”

“There is nothing to talk about.”

“Gibbs said you had a very violent reaction to the crime scene...that _all_ of you had a very bad reaction to that crime scene.”

“No I…”

“Yes and you need to talk about it.”

“I am…”

“Ziva, you are far from fine. This whole situation is affecting you much deeper than the others.”

“No.”

“They’ve started again, haven’t they?”

She said nothing now staring intently at her hands. Ducky continued, “There is nothing to be ashamed of. In fact I would be greatly worried if you had no reaction at all.”

“Why? I have put this all behind me.”

“Because you are very worried about Anthony, and you _know_ , are aware of the true danger he is in. The others know he is being hurt, but they have never experienced how truly devastating it is because they have never had to face such a thing themselves. You understand Anthony’s predicament and the seriousness of it so much more, and you will feel it deeper because you have been there yourself. _It_ is not an experience one can just simply forget. It is life altering. Some will move on from it, others never will, but the memories, the trauma, will always be there and trigger at random times, especially if one does not actively seek help and tries to do it all on their own. Torture is a rape of the mind, body AND soul. It leaves very deep scars. Some will fade with time. Some will never truly go away, such is the nature of the beast. It not only damages the body, mind and soul, it crudely strips one of their autonomy, violates and degrades them. One is treated as less than human, an object, a thing to be abused. It is not something that one can simply just _get over_ , no matter how strong they are or _think_ they are.”

She kept her gaze lowered to the floor neither acknowledging nor ignoring his words. She wanted to speak of it, but just couldn’t. She had put this all firmly behind her! Why was it all coming back again? 

Shaking her head she squeezed her eyes shut as she focused on her breathing. After several more moments she opened them lifting her gaze. Ducky was still focused on her, worry clear in his eyes. Quickly she tried to assuage it by muttering, “There is nothing wrong...”

“There is, but we will work on that.”

Focusing intently on him for several long moments she soon broke the gaze asking, “Is it okay if…? Can I…?”

“You may and perhaps it will help.”

Nodding she settled back into the corner, propping herself against the wall to observe the autopsy as it was being performed. She could do this. She _had_ to do this.

Ducky understanding her even better than she realized simply nodded and moved back to the autopsy table once again picking up a scalpel as he and Mister Palmer continued their work.

It wasn’t long before the door opened to admit yet another not so unexpected person. This time Ducky chose to remain focused on the exam knowing that Gibbs would speak when he was ready to.

Entering Autopsy he faltered only slightly in his approach as his eyes settled on the young woman presently standing in the far corner of the room, arms crossed over her chest, eyes set intently on the body on the table. Shaking his head he broke the odd silence with, “Does no one follow orders around here?”

Glancing up she nodded in greeting before returning her focus once again onto the autopsy table. Huffing in frustration and rubbing a hand over his eyes he implored, “Ziva, go _home_.”

“I am needed here, Gibbs.”

“No. I told you to go home.”

“And I chose not to.”

“Ziva.”

“We need to _find him_ , Gibbs. How can we do that when we are sitting at home gazing blankly at walls?”

Drawing in a deep breath he simply responded, “Now you sound like, McGee… Okay. All right. You can stay, but if you need to go at any time…”

A brief smile graced her lips as she continued, “I shall let you know.”

“You’ve spoken to McGee I see.”

“Yes.”

“Nice of him to inform me.”

Nodding in acknowledgment of the comment she returned her focus to the autopsy being presently conducted by Ducky and Palmer. 

Realizing he was fighting a losing battle he rolled his eyes muttering a quiet, “Why do I bother?” before continuing his approach. Stopping beside Ducky he requested, “Talk to me, Duck.”

“We are still conducting our autopsy, Jethro, but it is as we have all suspected. He was tortured before he died.”

Sipping his coffee to actively distract himself from offering any kind of a reaction to that information he continued, “Do we know what ultimately killed him?”

Glancing briefly at his friend he responded, “Sadly a lack of food, water and repeated trauma. His exposure to the coldness of the room I fear added to his rapidly failing health. I’d estimate death was slow and very painful.”

_Of course._

Swallowing hard he asked, “Do we have an exact ETD yet?”

“I’d say approximately a week ago. The coldness of the room stalled decomposition which is why he is still fairly recognizable at this stage.”

Rubbing his forehead trying to ease the headache beginning to develop he said, “What do you think happened, Duck?”

“I do not believe his captors wanted him to die, but their treatment of him… In simple terms, Jethro: they got too heavy handed with him. That in combination with the sheer amount of toxins Abigail found in his system…”

Interrupting he asked one of the questions burning in his mind, “Do you think he gave them Tony’s name, Duck?”

Lifting his gaze from his examination of the body he quietly responded, “Gibbs, one of the chemicals found near the autopsy table was Sodium Pentothal. According to Abigail there were dangerously high levels of it present in his blood toxicology. Am I to assume that you’ve not been to see her yet?”

“Heading there next. So what? He refused to talk and they decided to coerce him by use of drugs?”

“It is not unexpected, Jethro. If they grew tired of gaining no answers from him it is the next logical step.”

Biting back the bile threatening to rise in his now dry throat he managed, “Think they’d use the same thing on Tony?”

Hesitating briefly to give him an honest answer Ducky settled on offering what he suspected, “No. No. They would not.”

Gibbs was surprised by that answer and wondered if Ducky was just saying that to make him feel better. Sensing there was more left unsaid he forced the next question out, “Why wouldn’t they?”

Ducky focused more intently on the body of their present victim now leaning closer to his left hand. Gibbs recognizing it for the intentional stall that it was persisted, “Ducky, _why_ wouldn’t they?”

Huffing he distractedly glanced up before muttering, “Oh Jethro.”

“Duck…”

Irritated at being put on the spot Ducky snapped, “Because they want to keep him _alive_.”

_What?_

“Ducky.”

“Must we really discuss this, Jethro?”

“Yes we _must_! Now tell me, Duck, _why_?”

Palmer glanced briefly up at Doctor Mallard and noted that he was extremely tense and upset so he chose to answer the inquiry, “Because it would be potentially lethal to him, Agent Gibbs.”

“What? Why? How?”

Ducky answered then still aggravated with the older man, “Thank you, Mister Palmer. I’ll answer this one.”

“Sure, Doctor.”

Turning to fully focus on Gibbs he answered, “Sodium Pentothal along with many other drugs have some rather nasty and unfortunate side effects…for those with _breathing issues_ , Jethro.”

Gibbs blanched before managing, “His lungs. They _know_ about his lungs?”

“If their aim is to keep him alive then they would have studied him in depth…”

“Which would have revealed his bout with Y Pestis, Agent Gibbs.”

“Thank you, Mister Palmer,” replied a now irate Ducky.

Gibbs tensed further forcing his focus anywhere but on the body spread out before them. His mind toying with what that simple admission meant. Vance had said that Tony was _actively targeted_ , so Ducky’s assessment was probably correct. If they were intending to capture Tony and keep him alive they would have had to conduct research on him _before_ abducting him. It was yet another indication that the crime was premeditated and if they knew about Tony’s lungs… 

“We should have seen it coming, Duck.”

He didn’t react or speak simply chose to continue focusing on the autopsy aware that if Gibbs’ team had been a little more observant they might’ve actually stopped the abduction from ever having taken place. Palmer also bit back his comments knowing they were partially at fault for Tony’s disappearance for they had become extremely lax in watching and covering his back. If they had simply covered it as thoroughly as he had covered theirs than none of this would have happened.

****  
_Abyei, North Sudan_

Three days after the incident between he and Akeem the colonel decided that it was far passed time to visit his favorite prisoner. He had deliberately not entered after Akeem’s session. The last thing he needed was that very perceptive prisoner to catch onto the fact that he was a bit disappointed with one of his men. If he had entered immediately after Akeem had left then he would have definitely realized there was tension present that was not there before and knowing one very Special Agent DiNozzo the man would latch onto it and use it deliberately against them. No. It was best that he remained oblivious to the simmering tension now between them. Best not to give the man any ammo to use to gain the upper hand.

Controlling his thoughts and focus he whistled as he unlocked the door before pushing it inwards, not surprised in the least when the man immediately lifted his head and turned towards the source of the noise greeting, “Hello Colonel, come to visit little ole me, ah won’t Akeem be furious?”

The colonel chuckled as he fully entered the room an extra bounce in his step. Feeling giddy and excited to once again be pitting himself against the enigmatic man he said, “That position looks most uncomfortable, Agent DiNozzo.”

Akeem and his stress positions. He really needed to learn to expand his repertoire a bit more, though his skill with electricity left most men feeling downright envious. He also had quite the creative mind with restraints as he studied the awkward position the man was presently in. Yes, he could see how _that_ particular position could cause all kinds of exquisite pain. Closing his eyes as he felt a subtle shiver of pleasure climb his spine he drew in a calming breath forcing himself to focus. His smile broadening as the young man replied, “Yeah either Akeem has decided to teach me some yoga…” licking his dry split bottom lip he continued voice cracking slightly, “Or he’s hiding a serious bondage fetish, not sure which, but I gotta say…not really liking it all that much.”

The colonel laughed outright. He was too much. He probably drove his co-workers crazy with his sarcasm. It was refreshing. If only they weren’t adversaries.

The man spoke again ending that trail of thought cold, “So what’s on the agenda for today? More trauma by assault and battery?”

“You are…”

“Confusing? Complex? A pain in the ass?”

Noting his voice was beginning to fade he answered, “Unique, Agent DiNozzo, very unique.”

“Ah compliments before brutality. How sweet of you.”

Yes he really liked this man, such a rare beauty. He just had to get him to a place much more fitting.

Choosing not to respond to the sarcastic comment just uttered he said, “Your Agent Gibbs is such a fool for not appreciating you as he should.”

_And just **how** exactly had the colonel learned of his boss?_

Shaking his head he answered, “Your Akeem has a really big mouth.”

The colonel laughed again, a full on belly laugh as he responded, “You know he says the same thing about you.” 

Oh was he ever _glad_ the man had chosen to fight and not surrender. It would have been such a terrible loss, of course that made their job even more difficult. It was much harder to break someone who fought you at every turn, but one could say the man had been doing that for the majority of his stay. Still his drive was something to be admired, that and his tenacity. Oh was Agent Gibbs ever a fool to not appreciate his Senior Field Agent when he had him. It was so very hard to find one that was so complimentary. He should add that to his list. If they could turn him he would be an excellent second in command. It was something to seriously consider. 

Silencing his thoughts once more he continued, “A creature such as you is so very rare.”

 _Okay **creature**? This guy was just itching to be struck, wasn’t he?_ It was such a shame that none of his limbs would function well at the moment. Thanks to Akeem and his twisted ideas of torture methods. A brief shudder ran through him as he said, “Anyone ever tell you that grin is creepy as hell?”

“What makes you believe me to be grinning?”

“Oh you mean you’re not?”

“But I am. It just amazes me how perceptive you are even with one of your senses presently absent.”

“ _Criminal Investigator_ , Colonel.”

“You have spider senses, Agent DiNozzo.”

“Mm so they tell me.”

The weariness in his voice was also rather noticeable. If he had to guess lack of sleep was the contributing factor to that particular ailment, “Shall we get you out of that position?”

“Depends, if you want me to be mobile probably a good idea…or you could just drag me, I suppose.”

He chuckled again responding, “No. I would much rather you walk on both feet. I have no desire to drag you down the hallway.”

“Well not sure how well that will go after kneeling like this for so long, but what the hell let’s give it a shot, Colonel.”

His smile widened further. Approaching, he lowered before the man taking time to study the slightly more intricate rope work Akeem had conducted. Nice, but he’d need to be looked at as some of the ropes seemed a bit overly snug. “We shall visit the doctor first.”

“Um nope. I’m good, just saw him.”

“That was _three days ago_ , Agent DiNozzo.”

“Three days? You see it seemed so much longer than that.”

“Oh it would being secured in this position for so long. Am I correct in assuming you have not had adequate food in that time?”

“Yeah well that’s nothing new.”

“Water?”

Subconsciously licking his lips he responded in a near hoarse whisper, “Few times, but I think…kind of pissed him off, so he’s selecting to severely restrict it again.” _Seriously, why would he even care?_

Softly cursing he studied him intently once again affirming, "A visit to the doctor is needed then."

“Um okay."

_Exactly what else was he supposed to say to that?_

The colonel suddenly pressed a hand to the side of his face gently cupping it as he brushed lightly over the dark bruising present from one of the backhands Akeem had delivered prior. His first instinct was to jerk away, but the colonel halted him with a simple firm, “NO. You are still tightly bound, to jerk from me now will cause undue strain. I am merely inspecting Akeem’s handiwork.”

_Um what?_

The colonel confused the hell out of him. He had a feeling that was completely intentional on his part, and that he deliberately went out of his way to confuse the hell out of him. Fucking mind games.

“At present you are _my_ responsibility, Agent DiNozzo, so yes you _will_ be seeing the doctor.”

Feeling suddenly anxious it did not slip passed his notice how the colonel emphasized the word “my”. _It would seem the colonel is being a bit possessive, now isn’t he?_

Curiosity got the best of him and had him asking, “Just what _is_ your interest in me, Colonel?”

“Oh much more than a passing fancy, I assure you.”

_Just what the **hell** was **that** supposed to mean?_

The colonel removed his hand leaning back to once again study his position and the rope work trying to determine which rope to cut first to cause the least strain. He was presently in an upright kneeling position, legs spread about a foot and a half apart. His hands were secured firmly together in front of him resting slightly between his legs. There was an additional set of ropes secured just below the elbow joints of both arms, loose ends having been drawn behind him and securely fastened to each of his ankles. Thus preventing him from being able to move his arms at all without placing considerable strain on both ankles and legs and making it impossible to raise them anywhere above waist level. Each foot was resting with toes pointed down and pressed into the floor, the ropes preventing his ability to relax and ease the strain on them as well. In this position he would have been unable to stand, lie down or even sit. Sleep was also probably quite elusive. The position would also have hindered his ability to lean back or perch on his ankles to ease the strain on his knees. Overall the position was tame compared to most of Akeem’s demented creations except for the fact that he had spent _days_ , not merely hours, secured as such. 

Shaking his head he addressed, “So we must get you out of this position. I fear that any subsequent release of rope will cause you some pain and discomfort, unfortunately this position makes that impossible to avoid.”

“Yeah that’s kind of the point of a stress position, isn’t it?”

Chuckling he couldn’t resist responding, “You are so very refreshing, Agent DiNozzo. It is a rarity indeed to find one who can still manage to be sarcastic even when they are in quite the quandary.”

“Hmm what can I say? It’s part of my charm.”

He could hear the tiredness and gruffness in the man’s voice indicative of lack of sleep and water. Yes. He had been correct when he had determined that sleep would most likely have been unobtainable in this particular position. It was probably part of the reason Akeem came up with it in the first place. No doubt it was part of his punishment for daring to argue with him. Akeem, he had discovered early on, could be a vindictive little bastard when he wanted to be.

Determining that it didn’t matter which rope he cut first and that the release of any one of them would cause some amount of pain he settled on working on the right arm saying, “You will be sorely tempted to shift once I free your right arm. I suggest you not resist. You have been secured as such for several days therefore any sudden movement could potentially be problematic.”

“Oh how sweet of you…to be so concerned, Colonel.”

“Hmm.”

With that he cut the rope secured just under his right elbow running from arm to ankle. The sudden intense hiss and release of breath was indicative of just how restricting the rope had actually been. He then set to work cutting the ropes where they looped multiple times around each limb pursing his lips and mentally cursing as he saw the raw, scraped, bruised bleeding skin beneath. It was also obvious as more color seemed to return to the leg that it had been impeding some of the circulation as well. Damn Akeem and his carelessness.

Forcing his anger to abate he concentrated on freeing the second arm and removing the subsequent restraints on each of those limbs while leaving the ropes on his wrists in place and secured together checking to insure they weren’t overly tight before saying, “Now to stand.”

Tony was kneeling his eyes squeezed shut, lips pressed firmly together as pain creased his features. Licking his dry lips he forced out, “Yeah I can do that…”

He slowly tried to rise biting back the shriek of pain he so desperately wanted to release as he rapidly dropped onto his bent legs forcing out between clenched teeth, “Yeah s’not gonna happen.”

The sudden hands bracing him were unexpected as the colonel snapped, “Do not do that again, Agent DiNozzo! You **will** allow me to assist you.”

He wanted to refuse, to argue but he was just too damned tired and in too much pain to manage it so he huffed mumbling, “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“You are a most stubborn individual. Did you think I was not serious when I told you to remain still? You have been secured in this position for several days. To force your body to rise so abruptly mere moments after being released is sheer idiocy.”

“Wow you’re really complimentary today, Colonel.”

“Cease your rambling, Agent DiNozzo, and put aside your pride. Now is not the time to select opposition and defiance. It is counterproductive in this situation.”

“Hmm got it.”

“Good now cease moving.”

“Sure.”

The colonel rolled his eyes at the stubborn man presently in his arms and continued, “The restraints were constricting blood circulation to a degree therefore they will…”

Biting into his lower lip as he choked back a moan of pain he forced out, “Hurt like a bitch…yep, got it...”

Again he rolled his eyes tossing a haphazard glance at the ceiling as he muttered about stubborn bastards who didn’t know how to listen to directions. Tony snarled, “Hey! I’m listening. I’m listening.”

“You are tiresome.”

“You love it…,” came the strained response ending in a dry cough.

The colonel laughed continuing, “ _Now_ we will attempt to get you onto your feet.”

“Thought captors were supposed to sneer and make jabs at their prisoners not aid them.”

Without thought the colonel answered, “Yes well I have invested much time and effort into acquiring you, Agent DiNozzo. I have no intention of allowing you to harm yourself now that I finally have you.”

_Um what the hell did he mean by **that**?_

Shaking his head he replied, “You make no sense to me, Colonel.”

“And you really need to cease your chatter before your voice completely gives out.”

“Sucks…”

“Hmm we will get you some water soon. I promise.”

 _Um…okay…_ The colonel was _really_ taking this concerned act a bit far, now wasn’t he?

“Are you ready to try standing?”

“Yeah I…” the sudden clamp down on his arms had him glowering behind the blindfold as the colonel snapped, “You _will_ be allowing me to assist you.”

“As stubborn as my boss...”

“I shall take that as a compliment, Agent DiNozzo.”

Tony snorted answering, “You would.”

“Beautiful indeed.”

“What?”

Ignoring the question he addressed, “We will be standing up now.”

Slowly the colonel helped him to rise and braced him as his legs began to buckle beneath him prompting the colonel to say, “You see. This is why I insisted on offering aid,” while neglecting to mention that the man should be much _heavier_ than he presently seemed to be. Obviously Akeem has been restricting his food intake a lot longer than even he had realized. He would have to keep a closer eye on it than he had been and warn the doctor that he was to also keep watch. The last thing he needed was the man dying of starvation.

“Hmm.”

The tired mutter drew his attention back onto the man he was presently holding upright. As he managed to regain his balance the colonel announced, “Now we shall visit the doctor.”

“Told you…just saw him,” came the drowsy response.

“Hmm so you did.”

“I’m fine. Really.”

The colonel shook his head as he said, “Why do I get the sneaking suspicion that you are always _fine_?”

Tony lifted his head as if to look at the colonel through the blindfold prompting him to repeat, “You WILL be seeing the doctor. I insist upon it.” _Especially since you are far too underweight for your height, Agent DiNozzo._ Damn Akeem and his crude restrictions!

The sarcastic demand of, “What are you my mother…?” drew his attention back onto the man he was holding. Pursing his lips he firmly stated, “You are _**mine**_ , Agent DiNozzo, _**my**_ responsibility. We have already discussed this.”

There was that emphasis on the words _mine_ and _my_ again. _Just what the hell was he to this crazy bastard?_

“You think too much, Agent DiNozzo.”

“What?”

“Come. We will be visiting the doctor, of course it would be much easier if you were wearing shoes. Where are they may I ask?”

“Not sure. They were confiscated when I first arrived, not had shoes since then.”

The colonel shook his head muttering, “Akeem and his crazy antics. No doubt he confiscated them to deter you from attempting escape.”

“Yeah probably.”

“Ah no matter, you will just have to remember to _pick up_ your feet. Do not drag them.”

“Or?”

“Or they will become extremely scraped and raw.”

“Uh okay…”

“The floor is carved stone, Agent DiNozzo, not exactly bare feet friendly.”

“Got it.”

“I take it Akeem has not escorted you to the doctor very often.”

“No not really…at least not from…where ever _here_ is.”

“Yes this is not your normal cell.”

“Uh no too roomy…much too much space.”

“Hmm how are you able to tell blindfolded?”

“I just…sense it.”

“Ah those spider senses again.”

“Yeah something like that. Think he moves me so often to confuse me or something. Gotta admit orienteering while blindfolded is an interesting skill I’m still trying to navigate.”

Shaking his head the colonel spoke again, “You are most fascinating, Agent DiNozzo.”

“Okay…” _Like that wasn’t just creepy as hell or anything?_

The colonel gently grasped his upper right arm tightening his hold firmly about it as he said, “I shall be escorting you, but not to worry. I shall try to resist the temptation of deliberately running you into a wall or obstacle in our path.”

“Oh you’re all heart, Colonel.”

The colonel chuckled before turning him towards the door and offering, “The door is this way, Agent DiNozzo. Now come let’s not keep the doctor waiting.”

“Really don’t need to…”

The sudden yank on his arm as he was pulled through the door and into the hallway had him falling silent and continuing to glare. After several moments he spoke, “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

The colonel merely offered a sardonic smile to the two officers passing them, rather enjoying the abrupt jerking up of their heads, their gaping mouths and their sudden scurrying in the opposite direction at his prisoner’s verbal insult. Very few dared to challenge or disrespect him, even less dared to openly insult him. All he could do was smile brightly as he reaffirmed in his mind that he was _so_ worth the hassle!

“You are disturbing the locales.”

“What?”

“They are not used to someone who speaks freely without thought of the consequences.”

“I thought two people just passed us,” Tony casually commented.

“How do you know it was _two_ people?”

“Can hear their feet. Most people either shuffle or drag them, some stomp rather loudly. They were both in a big hurry, not sure why though.”

The colonel’s smirk became smug as he gazed fondly at his prisoner. Yes he was _so very_ worth it. 

Shaking his head dismissively he addressed, “Now remember to _pick up_ your feet.”

“Yes mother.”

The colonel released a delighted laugh that had two other officers suddenly pausing, looking nervously in his direction before they too abruptly exited the hallway. Tony hearing them said, “Boy, you really do make people uneasy don’t you, Colonel?”

His bright smile remained as he answered, “What can I say? It is part of my charm.”

“Asshole.”

“We shall be moving forward. Remember to…”

“Pick up my feet, got it.”

“Good.”

What the hell was wrong with this guy? He acted like a complete dick yet seemed strangely concerned with his welfare. It didn’t make a damned bit of sense to him. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a confusing bastard?”

“As are you.”

“Um okay…”

“Now pay attention. The last thing I need is for you to trip and damage your feet so severely that I have to carry you to the doctor.”

“Um what?”

“I know you are exhausted, but I cannot emphasize this enough...”

_“What?”_

“Pick up your feet, and try to rein in your overwhelming urge to comment on every little thing before your voice fails you completely from lack of water.”

Rolling his eyes behind the blindfold he complied picking up his feet as they walked onward aware of the rough texture beneath them. Wincing as he stepped on the occasional random sharp piece the colonel interrupted his focus with, “Akeem, can be so insensitive at times.”

_Okay. What. The. Hell?_

“You will soon feel an incline once to the top of it the floor will be much smoother.”

“Then where was I at in the basement?”

“No further down, _much_ further down.”

“Than the _basement_?”

“We do not have a basement per say. It is an underground compound, a rather complex one with many, many levels. Akeem just put you in one of the lower cells. In one of our rarely used wings.”

“Oh how kind of him.”

“Yes. He seems to have this innate fear of losing you, seems to think your boss will find you no matter how deep he buries you in the complex.”

_No matter how deep he buries him? Okay, if that didn’t sound a bit ominous, he sure as hell didn’t know what would._

The colonel as if reading his thoughts interrupted them with, “I assure you that the consequences for losing you are quite… _ **SEVERE**_.”

_And just why did that comment sound so disquieting?_

Shaking his head he was soon relaxing slightly as the floor went from rough to smooth beneath his feet stumbling momentarily at the sudden change in texture. This floor was cooler, harder and flatter just as the colonel had said it would be. What was it made of? Stone? Or was it tile? 

“It is made of granite.”

“What?”

“The floor. It is made of granite. We are still several levels beneath the surface.”

“Oh.”

Returning his focus to the new texture beneath his feet he noticed the coolness of it seemed to be easing and soothing some of the tenderness that trek on rougher ground had created on the soles of his feet. He also noticed the noise level had increased. Where before it was quiet and mostly calm now there was a lot more movement and soft chatter. He sensed that several times now the colonel had directed him subtly around people grouped in the hallway. Where the hell was he _now_?

The colonel interrupted with a soft, “I take it he has never brought you through this wing either?”

“Uh no, well unless it… How many more have arrived?”

“More?”

“Troops? You told me, or was it him? One of you told me that there would be more people joining us.”

“Ah yes. You have a very good memory too. We must watch what we say around you for you are much too smart and perceptive for your own good.”

“Um…”

“We are here. Now stop.”

Halting he waited for the next direction. The colonel nodded in greeting to a passing security guard answering his previous inquiry, “We are on one of the interrogation levels.”

“Uh wasn’t that where I just came from?”

“No. You were on one of our oldest cell blocks.”

“Ah this wasn’t here before then.”

“No. As more have joined us we had to split the base into two separate wings. The East Wing now houses our guests…”

“Prisoners.”

“And the West Wing houses our troops.”

“And the doctor…”

“Is still in the same location as he always was. We just felt it would be more beneficial to make this wing for interrogation and holding cells due to the close proximity to our doctor.”

“Well that…that’s highly disturbing, just how many prisoners are here?”

“That is something you need not worry about,” he answered while nodding at the guard who was watching them intently. He then entered a code to open the door prompting Tony to comment, “Ah alarmed doors, also new.”

“Apparently Akeem has been bringing you in through the back of the office and not the front.”

“Hmm apparently.”

He then opened the door urging, “You will need to step up and over the bar in front of the door.”

“Okay.”

Slowly he complied and once inside he shifted feeling the familiar texture of indoor/outdoor carpet beneath his feet and recognizing the smell of antiseptic. They were in the waiting room. The colonel nodded in greeting to one of the guards standing inside the door as well. Tony licked his lips nervously before saying, “You obviously beefed up security.”

“Very perceptive indeed. It was necessary. Now come. He is expecting us.”

“Oh goody off to see my favorite person.”

A new voice interrupted greeting, “Your sarcasm is duly noted, Antonio.”

“Sure didn’t miss you any.”

The doctor settled a gaze on the colonel and nodded. The colonel proceeded to gently tug on Tony’s arm as he said, “Come. He will see us now.”

The guard watched from his vantage, caught by surprise at the way the prisoner was being handled. Apparently he was one of extreme importance to garner not only the attention of the doctor, who apparently addressed him _by name_ , but also the colonel. Who was he, and what made him of such great value? 

Shaking his head he turned his focus back on watching the door as was expected. It was not his fault if he should happen to _overhear_ a few things now was it?

Once inside the office the doctor turned to address, “You are a mess, Antonio.”

“Gee thanks.”

“And you are in need of bathing.”

“Oh goody. Planning to let me do it myself this time?” Bastard liked to use bathing to enforce within him that he had little autonomy left. The prick.

The doctor glared in response. Sensing the heated look he absentmindedly shrugged his shoulders offering a simple, “Worth a shot I suppose.”

The colonel was _grinning_. He could sense it. The man was definitely unnerving interrupting with, “I need him examined for his physical health and condition, Doctor. Our friend has been severely restricting water intake and denying him food again.”

“Yes he and I have discussed this situation in depth. He does not seem to comprehend it.”

Tony couldn’t help but intercede as he said, “That’s because he’s set on _revenge_.”

The two turned towards him. Both were only slightly surprised by his acumen. The colonel spoke then, “You have been a cop much too long, Agent DiNozzo.”

“What? Can’t help it. I just know these things.”

“Yes that would also be the investigator in you.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

“No just makes our jobs much more difficult.”

“Well yeah. Can’t make it too easy for you. I mean, where’s the fun in that?”

The doctor studied them, quietly observing their exchanges, and noticing the predatory interest momentarily crossing the colonel’s face, so it would seem he has found his next contender. 

_Oh Antonio if you only knew what **that** meant._

The colonel was very selective in those who caught and held his interest. He had a reputation for pursuing them with extreme prejudice. He became almost obsessed with them. His desire was to conquer and cage them, and if anyone dared get in his way… He shuddered to think of what befell them.

If Akeem wasn’t careful he would soon be feeling the full ire of the colonel, and would learn first-hand why and how he had garnered the reputation that preceded him, of course having known the colonel as many years as he has he should already be aware of the consequences of such action. 

Sadly, Antonio was indeed right for Akeem was consumed with the need to get revenge on a man who had committed a grave injustice against him when he was just a child. Unable to presently get his hands on the main target _of_ that vengeance, he was opting for the next best thing: one of the closest and most important people in his life.

It was only a matter of time before Akeem’s desire to gain revenge and the colonel’s desire to hold onto that direct line in gaining it would cause utter turmoil between the two of them. Pity those who dared get in the way of _that_ imminent battle.


	14. Fulcrum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay time for that standard disclaimer again since I'm delving into "dangerous territory", so to speak:
> 
> This is a work of fiction: names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidences are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
> 
> Got you wondering now didn't I? :)

_Washington D.C. – Gibbs’ House_

He had been gone for so long, and still they had no leads. He was lost to them. They had no idea where to look. No idea who even took him, just a sketchy idea of why. No evidence that led them any closer to finding him then they had been when Fornell began his initial investigation. He had just vanished without a trace. There was no chatter in any agencies. No chatter amongst allies or enemies. It was as if Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo Junior just didn’t exist. Vance seemed to be concealing information, as well as Fornell, but he sensed that it was no more helpful than anything else they had come across. He was just…absent, gone, _missing_.

He knew, of course, that Tony was indeed somewhere, trapped against his will, and at the complete mercy of _someone_. What they wanted? Revenge on _him_ , and they were using Tony to get it. One of his worst nightmares was actively playing out: an enemy getting their hands on one of his team. They wanted to make him suffer, and they were succeeding. It was a calculated move on their part, one they had to have spent time studying him to figure out. They didn’t target McGee or Ziva, didn’t go after Ducky or Palmer. No, they went after _Tony_ and were presently threatening _Abby_. Whoever _they_ were apparently knew the significance of those two people in his life. Their aim was to torment him, and damn it if they weren’t presently succeeding.

He was no fool. He knew that they were doing terrible things to his SFA. One way to make him hurt was to actively hurt Tony, and presently he was helpless to stop it, to protect and defend him. His job was to _protect_ his team, to fight for them, back them up and help them. He could do NONE of those things for Tony, and it was eating him alive from the inside out. The only thing alleviating some of it was that he still had others to protect.

Closing his eyes he tried valiantly to fight off the invasive thoughts that kept taunting him, quickly realizing that his mind had no intention of giving him even a moment’s solace. Sleep was elusive as hell, and it seemed that no matter how hard he tried he just _couldn’t_ silence his damned mind. Growling in frustration he flopped onto his back hesitantly admitting that he hadn’t really slept well since the day he found out Tony left involuntarily. Hell, if he were brutally honest with himself he hadn’t slept well since the day he had _thought_ Tony had walked out on the team, on the job, on HIM.

He had FAILED him. He had lost Tony on HIS watch, had been actively pushing him away even before that. If he’d just paid more attention, been less critical, more understanding, less arrogant, less driven by his own selfish needs…

He was disappointed in himself. He _should have_ known. He _should have_ been aware. He _should have_ seen it coming. He _should have_ watched Tony as closely as he watched the others. It was his fault, all of it. In summary: he was a piss poor leader. There was no other explanation for it, no other reason why he had been so stupid and careless, so egotistical and biased.

He had always prided himself on protecting his team, watching out for them but with Tony he had become excessively lax. He had left anger and uncertainty cloud his judgement. He had willingly blinded himself to Tony’s struggles. Hell had damned near written him off. He had ignored the warning signs, ignored the fact that he was quite literally exhausted, on the precipice of burn out. He had ignored how Tony struggled with self-doubt, and how his two junior agents walked all over him. He didn’t correct them, and didn’t bother to defend Tony either and why? Because he had felt _threatened_ by him.

He _had_ noticed just how well his SFA handled running _HIS_ team. The team he had willingly given up, and it pissed him off. He had been so proud of Tony, but he had also felt threatened by him. It was the first time he had ever let someone else’s success bother him. They didn’t need him, with Tony they were fine, _all_ of them. Tony hadn’t bulked, instead he made it work, and he had worked damned hard to ensure the team would continue to run and function as they were supposed to…but he was too damned good at it. When he did return to NCIS he had made damned sure to forcefully subvert Tony pushing him harshly back into the position of a subordinate. He had complimented him, told him he was proud of him and then had lashed out at him, forcefully and crudely ripped the rug right out from under him. He expected Tony to accept it and be damned happy about it. He hadn’t thought of the emotional fallout those stupid, reckless, careless actions would create. Hadn’t thought of how those simple actions permanently fractured a team that had finally started functioning _together_. All he had cared about was reinstalling himself into the position of team leader, his SFA and all his hard work be damned.

He was certain that he had to taper down Tony’s success and sadly through the years he had become quite good at it. He couldn’t permit him to stand on equal ground. He had to quell the man, to keep him from _ever_ considering leading the team again, or leaving them. He had to convince Tony that he couldn’t survive without them, had to convince him that the team needed him just as much, but that he could never _lead_ it. In his attempts to sabotage all of Tony’s hard work he had damned near destroyed him, and hadn’t even noticed. All because he had felt _threatened_ by Tony’s success.

Why did it take discovering he hadn’t voluntarily left to wake him up, make him realize how fully he had been taking advantage of his SFA the last few years? How completely he was suppressing him, pushing him below even his junior agents? He had allowed them to use him as a door mat, to treat him with little respect. They were cruel, vindictive and entitled. They blew off Tony’s directions, taunted him and openly criticized him forgetting that because of _him_ they were still together. Had he been an unsuccessful leader Jenny would have broken the team apart, and Vance sure as hell wouldn’t have even _considered_ bringing them together again. They seemed to forget that he had successfully led them in the past, that he was quite capable of taking charge at a moment’s notice, that he was GOOD at it and damned good at his job.

He had created dissension when he crudely demoted Tony practically announcing to the whole world that he wasn’t good enough to _lead_. He was an asshole. The mess his team now was? It was all his fault. The disappearance of his SFA? Also his fault. His actions had opened his team to manipulation, endangered them and made it so much easier for someone to get their hands on Tony. Hell, none of them had even realized that Tony had been abducted until those damned pictures came in the mail. They hadn’t _noticed_. They hadn’t been _paying proper attention_. They had _forgotten_. They had neglected to adequately _cover his back_. They had all assumed that he gave up, simply walked off the job and moved on. No one pursued the suspiciousness of Tony’s absence except for the Director, Abby, Palmer and surprisingly enough Fornell.

How could he have allowed things to get so bad? How could he have allowed ignorance and presumptions to conceal what was really happening? They had him for _**FOUR MONTHS**_ before any of them even realized he was missing at all. If he had paid more attention, been less arrogant, less ignorant, less _selfish_ then perhaps Tony would still be here. If he had just done his damned job then Tony wouldn’t have been so dangerously close to burn out when taken, hell he wouldn’t have BEEN taken. Why had he let things get so far out of control?

Huffing in frustration as he gazed up at his darkened ceiling once more he violently tossed onto his left side trying yet again to silence his wandering thoughts. Squeezing his eyes shut as they didn’t seem to want to abate. Grumbling he shifted again.

Damn it, he _would_ make this right! He would fix what he had so callously disrupted and torn apart. He was determined now, and if they got Tony back he would damned well know his own worth, damned well stand beside him as an equal and his disappointing junior agents would either have to shape up or ship out. He would no longer permit their outward abuse against his SENIOR FIELD AGENT. No. Tony had worked damned hard to get where he was, and he’d be damned if he deliberately held him back any longer. He would also make a point to be in his life and actively help him recover for he had no doubt it would be a long arduous road Tony would have to traverse once they brought him home.

He was determined to do whatever it took to help Tony heal, bring him back into the fold, share the reins with him. Hell, Tony did most of the work anyways. He was responsible for so very much, too much. It was extremely obvious now: _he_ was the glue that held them all together, he _and_ Abby. Without him even she floundered, without him their moral compass was shot to hell, without him things no longer ran _smoothly_. His position, his role on the team was damned near as vital, if not more so, than his own. He _needed_ to get him back. They all did.

A light tapping on his door drew him upright. Had he just imagined it? Shaking his head he attempted to settle back down when he heard it again. Obviously someone was at his door in the middle of the damned night. Grabbing his weapon he slowly made his way downstairs hearing the insistent tapping again and gruffly stating, “It’s open.”

The door opened revealing his forensics scientist. She appeared to be very upset prompting him to immediately lower his weapon and approach gently prodding, “Abby? Abby, what is it? Where’s…?”

Dismissing his questions she settled for a simple, “Couldn’t sleep either?”

“Um no. What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night. You’re supposed to be…”

“Can’t stop thinking about him.”

Softly sighing he quietly confessed, “Yeah me either.”

“Can, can I come in?”

He glanced up as one of her protection detail offered a silent wave and informed, “She insisted, so I came along. I’ll be outside, Agent Gibbs.”

“Thank you.”

After the threat on her life she had remained with him until all the locks on her house were replaced. She then insisted on being able to return home. The only way he agreed to that was if she had at least two people shadowing her. She argued at first insisting she didn’t need them, but when he persisted on the topic she hesitantly yielded. They’ve been with her ever since, and he slept much better at night knowing she had the protection. It wasn’t ideal. He would rather have McGee or Ziva looking after her, but he was already down one man and the two were working themselves ragged. They _needed_ downtime and protection detail was most definitely _not_ downtime. Palmer was in a similar situation, but he was much more accepting of the extra sets of eyes watching him and his family. He was actually rather grateful for it. It made it easier for him to come to work in the morning knowing that there was at least one watching his home while he was away.

Looking at the agent standing unobtrusively behind her he nodded and watched as he melded back into the night remaining present but non-invasive. He then settled a gaze on her as he answered her question, “You already know you can come over here whenever you want, Abs.”

Slowly she entered before throwing her arms around him and quietly saying, “We have to find him."

“I know, Abby. I know. We’re working on it,” he reassured before wrapping his arms similarly around her. Both of them drawing comfort from the selfless gesture.

****

_Abyei, North Sudan_

As whistling pierced the suffocating silence accompanied by sauntering feet heading directly for him, Tony listened intently. _Ah, so he was being visited by two people. How sweet of them to check on him. The assholes._

Unable to resist the prime opportunity to irritate the bastard who had left him chained up after quite thoroughly beating the shit out of him he greeted, “Hey Colonel do me a favor and tell your buddy there that his brand of hospitality _really_ sucks.”

A soft chuckle proceeded his comment followed by an all too familiar silken voice greeting, “Hmm Agent DiNozzo, what am I _ever_ going to do with you?”

Turning his head fully towards them he mentally cursed the damned blindfold that obstructed everything and cocked his head slightly when he caught the faintest snarl off to the right of where the colonel’s voice had issued from. _So his comment had struck home? Good._

The colonel broke the tension by uttering a complaint of, “Now that will just not do,” puzzling him. _What was he complaining about?_

Hearing his approach he immediately jerked back as a sudden, unexpected feather light touch brushed down across his face, fingers lingering, easing subtly beneath the edge of his blindfold while the colonel continued, “First we must get rid of this pesky piece of cloth. I want to have a look,” before quickly yanking said cloth off without warning.

His reaction was instant as he released a shocked, gruff outcry. Twisting away, tightly squeezing his eyes shut, he snarled, “Son of a bitch! You _really_ need to work on your bedside manner, Colonel,” eyes now burning from the rapid exposure to overly bright light.

He was so focused on trying to breathe through the unexpected pain that it took him a moment to hear the colonel softly speak, “Oh I know it must hurt, Agent DiNozzo, but I really do want to see your eyes. What color are they? I’m sure they are very pretty.”

_What the hell?_

Trying to focus, he soon realized that the bastard was actually caressing his face. Anger flared within. Snarling a soft, “Asshole,” he viciously rammed his knee upwards in response. Feeling the impact he heard a distinct humph elicit from his target followed by ragged breathing. Mentally he prepared flinching the moment a hand cupped his face. Instead of the brutal backhand he was expecting the touch became soft, returning to a gentle caress as a voice far too calm and controlled continued, “Oh I know I am, but that does not mean my curiosity isn’t driving my impulsivity now does it?”

_Really? That was **it**?_

Without awareness of it he quietly hissed, “Crazy bastard,” to which the colonel chuckled responding, “Oh now let’s not get judgmental. Come. Let me have a look see. My curiosity demands it.”

“What?”

Again the colonel was confusing the hell out of him. Not reacting the way he had expected, actually acting as if nothing had even taken place. Games, he was always playing his stupid fucking games.

Feeling the hand on his cheek pause he attempted to jerk away a second time only for the colonel to ignore the reaction. Grasping his chin, squeezing hard enough to make it hurt, the colonel forced his head forward, his voice not betraying his scarily bright mood as he chided, “Now, now, none of that. Come. Let me see.”

Releasing a softly hissed, “Hmm,” as the pain momentarily hit a crescendo he squeezed his eyes tighter shut. The intensity of the pain was still there and not letting up. In fact his eyes were now watering fiercely, his vision filling momentarily with painfully bright lights strobing behind closed lids. As they throbbed, retinas feeling like they were presently being sautéed, he released another harsh gasp once again trying to bury his still stinging eyes in shadow.

The colonel’s bruising grip tightened further holding his face steady as he snapped, “No! No hiding them. The pain will soon ease. Give it a few more minutes.”

_A few more minutes? This asshole does realize how long he’s been kept blindfolded right?_

“You’re a sadistic prick.”

The colonel chuckled his grip only tightening more on his jaw.

Wincing in response to the increased pressure he tried to ignore the pain. As the stabbing burning in his eyes started to mercifully abate he slowly relaxed. Hesitantly opening them to slits only to hiss again and squint against the unexpected glare of light now piercing them. Hearing the gentle urging of “That’s it…” he mentally cursed unable to resist snapping, “You’re a closet sadist, aren’t you Colonel?"

Ignoring the insult the colonel giddily stated, “Oh I bet they’re real pretty.”

Without thinking Tony lifted his gaze up to the confusing bastard still squinting and caught off guard as he said a breathless, “Oh they _are_ very pretty indeed.”

_What the…?_

The sudden harsh, “SIR…” caught Tony by surprise as he had forgotten that there was a second person in the room. Catching sight of the briefest flicker of irritation crossing the colonel’s facial features he made a mental note of the observation. So the colonel and his, what was he second in command? Were apparently at odds with one another? He could use that.

As the colonel proceeded to tilt Tony’s head to the right and left eerily studying him his attention shifted quickly back. Noting the sudden narrowing of the colonel’s eyes he mentally asked himself _now what?_

As if hearing the unvoiced question the colonel snickered murmuring, “You are far too observant for your own good, my friend.”

 _Friend? Yeah, no._ “Um think you have me confused with someone else, Colonel.”

“Hmm not likely.”

It was Tony’s turn to look suspicious. _What exactly was his aim with that comment?_

“Trying to garner an unfavorable response from me, Colonel?”

He chucked simply replying, “Hmm if you only knew."

_Uh?_

The colonel once again intently studied him prompting him to openly glower at the man.

“I like to look into the eyes of my opponents. They sometimes speak louder than words, and yours have been hidden from me for far too long. The things one can learn from simply studying another’s eyes. They say that they are the windows to the soul, Agent DiNozzo, and right now yours are sharp and flinty, hard, like ice chips. You really _do_ hate this don’t you? Hmm yes. I can tell. You hate to yield, to surrender to another. You hate to bow to the whims of another. To one as fiercely independent as you this is pure torture… Oh is that a spark, a glint? Hmm, if looks could kill.”

He coldly eyed the colonel feeling sudden rage threatening to consume him unaware that he was even reacting until the bastard continued, “I know. You loathe me. You are so cynical.”

Another hissed “sir” had his jaw twitching before the colonel concealed it behind a mask of calm. He then released Tony gently patting his cheek, petting it as he softly encouraged, “You just relax for a bit, Agent DiNozzo. I have something I need to take care of. I assure you I will not be long.”

He then abruptly turned away from him to face Akeem. Within moments both were heading rapidly out the door.

_So apparently that tension was a bit more pronounced than he had first thought. Interesting._

Tony listened as the door clicked shut behind them and quickly locked before releasing a tense breath and allowing himself to gaze half in wonder, half in surprise around the room. The walls were of rough-hew stone, ragged, crude and an interesting color combination of orange and grayish white. The floor beneath him a deep sandy yellow-brown, rough and coarse beneath his bare feet. Noticing the crude vent near the top of the wall to his right he subconsciously shuddered as it suddenly kicked on. He now knew why some days he damned near froze: they were deliberately messing with room temperature. Bastards.

Dismissing those thoughts he turned his focus onto other noticeable things. The air was presently cold and becoming colder the longer that vent remained on. It was also seemingly tinged by an undercurrent of stifling heat that meandered and weaved itself throughout making the atmosphere feel both stagnant and heavy. Was it any wonder that he sometimes struggled to catch a breath or that at other times he veritably shivered as the cold seeped mercilessly into his bones?

His skin was dry like sand paper, reflecting both the lack of moisture in the air and which climate he was in. The various areas covered in patches of long since dried blood that would only come off when the sadistic doctor deliberately subjected him to a vat of icy water for his mandatory bathing. In this room it would never really wash off, which explained the subtle, sometimes intensely distracting itchiness that occasionally flared. The scents of musk and hot dry earth tinged potently with the subtle sour sweet smell of sweat and blood always lingering. There were no windows in the room and only one way in or out. If he were to hazard a guess, he would say they were holding him deep underground again.

His present situation was looking rather dire. Knowing he should be much more concerned and alarmed than he actually felt he chose to momentarily push those thoughts away and settled for simply focusing on savoring what his eyes beheld for as long as he was able. For it had been so very _long_ since he had seen anything other than endless darkness, and he knew that it would only be a matter of time before it would greet and enslave him once more.

**

Once outside of the room and some distance away from both their prisoner and others the colonel wheeled on Akeem demanding, “You dare to question my methods?”

Akeem glowered back resisting the urge to lash out as he answered, “Sir, I am not questioning you just your _approach_.”

He continued acidly, “Despite what you may think I _do_ have a purpose for the approach I am taking, and I _do not_ have to justify my actions _to you_.”

Unfazed Akeem demanded, “And what _exactly_ , may I ask, would that purpose be?”

“It keeps him unbalanced, confused about what my end goal is, keeps him guessing, distracts him and gets him hopefully to let down his guard a bit. Remember he has been an officer of the law, a NCIS agent for over ten years of his life. He is _trained_ in interrogation methods. He no doubt has employed some of those we have used on him, if you recall he is one of their _best_. We _need_ to break down his barriers. We _need_ to tear down his walls, _rip_ his protective shields to shreds and get him to talk. I am merely attempting a different approach than has previously been utilized. You need to remember your place, Akeem. You do not question me, _especially_ in front of a prisoner. We are friends, you and I, but I am a _superior officer_. You will do as I say and respect my methods. When you are with me you will follow my lead. Is that understood?”

Huffing he bit back the scathing remark he wanted to release opting for a clipped, “Yes, sir.”

Face flushing with indignation he continued, “It is also far passed time that I address _another_ issue that seems to be recurring.”

“Sir!”

“Control your anger and listen, Akeem, are you listening?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good.”

“What is this about?”

“Your need for revenge on his boss is interfering and that cannot be allowed to continue.”

 _"What?”_ came his haughty retort.

Irritated with his flippant attitude he snarled, “If you want revenge on him then _take it_ , but do not use our guest as your primary means. We _need_ him **alive**. Dead he is of no use to us. Use the fact that we _possess_ him as your means of gaining revenge on your enemy, but again not your _only_ means. I understand your anger, your need to make him suffer, believe me I do, but do not allow it to interfere. You are forgetting why you are here. Revenge is secondary to our main goal. If you cannot rein in your need for it then you will be dismissed.”

“So you are really here just to lecture me, sir?”

“No to help and to ensure that you remember our main goals.”

“I do.”

Eye twitching at the casual response he deliberately started walking towards him forcing Akeem to take several steps back as he questioned, “Do you now?”

Face flushing as his back connected with the wall he stumbled out a quick, “Yes, yes sir!”

The colonel’s jaw twitched. Pressing his advantage he deliberately leaned forward encroaching on Akeem’s personal space as much as he was able continuing in a more menacing tone, “I have been informed that the last several examinations have revealed that our…visitor is not being properly taken care of.”

Akeem’s eyes darted rapidly left than right as if searching for help. When none appeared he nervously swiped his tongue across his bottom lip answering, “Sure, sure he is. Been holding back.”

The colonel sneered casually pressing his left hand against the wall directly beside Akeem’s head voice taking on a softer tone as he continued, “Yes as we have noticed. The last several reports revealed he is underweight and dehydrated.”

“I…I can explain!”

“Hmm can you now?”

“Yes, yes sir. You see, I um…”

Cutting his explanation off he said, “While restricting his food and water intake can effectively be used as coercive techniques and weaken his resolve they cannot be our _only_ methods. We cannot severely restrict either or we will lose him before we even get the chance to break him.”

Was he supposed to coddle him now? Absolutely not! That would go against his plans, and he was not about to bail on them simply because the colonel insisted upon it! Leroy Jethro Gibbs would pay, and that bastard in the other room was a primary part of that revenge. No way would he concede in that decision. His anger drove him to boldly question the colonel further, “What if he does not break?”

Having read Akeem’s intentions in his eyes he decided he would have to be less forgiving than previously, but for now he would permit Akeem’s folly. Pulling away he casually informed, “Oh he will. They all do eventually. We just need to find his Achilles’ heel.”

Feeling the tension slowly dissipating Akeem stood up straighter asking, “Shouldn’t we have found it by now?”

“No. He is a challenge in that respect. He will take time to break. We have ourselves a man of great depth, determination and strong moral courage. To get to his limit we must first peel back his intricate layers bit by bit, wear him down…”

“He intrigues you…”

“Most definitely.”

“Is that not a conflict of interest?”

“That I find him interesting and challenging? That I like his offbeat sense of humor? That had we met under different circumstances we might have become friends? No, absolutely not. Just because I find him _likable_ it does not mean that I neglect my job. The goal is to gain his cooperation using _whatever means necessary_ , short of them being highly detrimental to his health, of course. I know my job. I know our end goals, and I intend to thoroughly break him. You should be focused on the same end…”

“But?”

“You keep letting your desire for revenge get in the way. If we wanted him dead we would certainly not have a doctor assigned to him.”

“That doctor is _very good_ at making people talk…”

“Yet our guest still fights, still resists and dares to talk back?”

“One cannot deny that he is quite spirited…”

“No. One cannot. He is a challenge as I have said. If we do not get along, you and I, he _will_ sense it. He _will_ pick up on it. I believe he already _has_.”

“You do not…”

“I do.”

“But…”

“He will attempt to use that knowledge as a means to put a wedge between us, to actively pit us against one another, distract us from our main goals and directives. We _need_ to be very cautious and weary where he is concerned. He is no fool Akeem, and he is most definitely _not_ simpleminded or illogical. He actively employs masks to cover and conceal his true depths. My goal right now is to destroy what is left of those masks. Once they are gone he will become more malleable.”

“Hopefully.”

“Yes.”

“And if that fails?”

“Then I will just have to attempt a different approach.”

Silence fell between them before Akeem breached it with, “Shall we return to our visitor’s quarters?”

The colonel offered a wicked grin as he responded, “No, not yet. The air strikes have aided in his awareness of the passage of time. Let’s make him wait just a bit longer. We need to keep him off balance, remove that present stability, and destroy it as much as we are able.”

“Yes, sir!” that was one order Akeem would have _no_ problem in following.

Feeling much better than he had previously Akeem turned to head down the hall tensing as the colonel quickly grabbed his upper arm and yanked him against him as he coldly whispered in his ear, “Test me and my rules, Akeem, and you will be branded like a piece of meat and forced to run the gauntlet. Remember **if** you survive that then at any time after that point I will have the right to do _anything_ to you as you would officially belong TO ME.” He then violently pushed him an arm’s length away before releasing his bruising hold, turning and brushing his hands off as he casually made his way down the hall whistling the entire way.

Akeem was left swallowing hard while gently rubbing the actively forming bruise on his upper arm. The threat having impacted on him fully. If one was branded by the colonel they became his property, and no one would dare to interfere for they were all far too fearful and terrified of him to even dare try. If that were to happen his fate would well and truly be sealed.

****

_Washington D.C._

_NCIS Headquarters – MCRT Bull Pen_

_Several Days Later…_

Glancing up at the sound of someone’s arrival McGee greeted enthusiastically, “Boss I think I figured it out!”

“Figured what out, McGee?” Noticing he wore the same clothes he had on yesterday he commented, “You spend the night, Tim?”

“I had a revelation…”

“What…?”

"I had a… never mind, look I think I figured it out.”

“Figured _what_ out, Tim?”

“That message Abby sent me.”

Confused he questioned, “What message?” wondering why the man seemed suddenly so animated.

Hitting a few buttons he brought it up on his screen waving him over like an overly eager teen. Gibbs approached focusing on the computer screen and immediately recognized the random letters and numbers written in Tony’s hand. Hope filled him as he realized that they may have _finally_ found a solid clue that could actually lead them to Tony.

McGee began, “At first it looks like just a random string of numbers and letters. No breaks, nothing. Running them through the computer didn’t turn up any common combinations either. Until I did this…”

Clicking another button he highlighted the first five: sd3cb. He then continued, “This is what is called a geohash.”

“A geo what?”

“A geohash, boss. Relatively new, as in just created in the last year or so.”

"Well what is it McGee?”

“Shorthand for geographical coordinates. There are thousands of these. They’re a convenient way to express a locale anywhere in the world. They’re all a combination of short alpha numeric strings, again just in the creation stages, but I’m pretty sure that’s what we’re looking at.”

The first question to pop into his head was how did Tony even _know_ about such things existing? The second question was why? Why was Tony leaving them a set of geographical coordinates, and just where the hell did they lead? Silencing the questions still circulating in his mind he asked, “And these?”

“Sd3cb is shorthand coordinates for Darfur.”

“Darfur?”

“In Sudan, Africa boss.”

Tony left coordinates for a town in Sudan? Why?

“And the rest?”

“Not as easy to decipher.”

“What _are_ they McGee?”

“Similar to a passport number but…”

“Tim.”

“A T Visa belonging to one Meera Shadid.”

“A T Visa?”

“They’re not as well-known and were designed several years ago. They’re a type of visa that we provide.”

“For?”

“Victims of human trafficking.”

_Oh Tony what the hell did you get yourself into?_

Shaking his head he forced himself to refocus on McGee aware that he was a bit distracted by the new information being given.

McGee, unaware of his boss’ lapse, continued, “…and immediate family members to remain and work temporarily in the US. These are usually issued to those who have agreed to assist law enforcement in testifying against perps. They typically last for a four year period and holding one allows them to apply for permanent residency. Gives them cash assistance, food stamps allows them to work in the US, things like that.”

Why the hell did Tony leave them coordinates to a place in Africa and a T Visa number?

Glancing over he was startled and surprised to see Fornell suddenly turn and head up to the Director’s office. When the hell did he show up, and what the hell was going on?

Within moments he was called up to the Director’s office. Looking at McGee he said, “Good job, Tim. See what you can dig up on…”

“Meera Shadid?”

“Yes.”

“On it!”

Climbing the stairs to Vance’s office he barged in, abruptly closing the door before asking, “You want to tell me what the hell is going on, and just _how_ my agent ended up being connected to someone that was a victim of human trafficking _apparently_ in the middle of Africa, Leon?”

“Africa?”

“Darfur, Sudan. The first section of that sequence left by Tony is coordinates. Why the hell did he leave us coordinates to _Sudan_ , Leon?”

Huffing in frustration he ran a hand back through his hair, sharing a brief intense glance with Fornell, before leveling a gaze on Gibbs urging, “You might want to sit down for this, Gibbs.”

“Might want to…what the hell did you get my agent involved in?”

“I didn’t get him involved in anything. I already told you he had been _requested_. Now sit down. Please.”

Slowly he complied, glancing briefly at Fornell before turning to the Director and suggesting, “Think it’s about time you told me the whole story, Leon, starting with just who the hell this Meera Shadid is.”

Sighing in irritation he answered, “Three years ago Agent DiNozzo helped bring a young woman and her daughter into the US. He set up a safe house for her, helped her apply for citizenship and arranged a new identity for her. He also became her direct contact. He was her _handler_ , Gibbs. He kept tabs on her, helped her adjust to the US, set her daughter up in school, everything.”

“Why?”

“Because he was asked to.”

“What? By who?”

“He was contacted by an old friend of his, one of our undercover operatives stationed in Chad near the eastern border of the country…”

“Let me guess Kaden Jakand.”

“Yes.”

“Wait you _knew_ that they were connected and you didn’t…”

“He and DiNozzo have history. They went through the academy together. When they graduated DiNozzo pursued a career in criminal justice while his friend went into counter intelligence. He was stationed in Chad for several years before he placed a call to DiNozzo requesting aid.”

Fornell picked up the story, “Said he didn’t trust anyone but DiNozzo and that he needed help to get someone out of Chad, someone that was willing to provide Intel to the US.”

“A spy, Gibbs, a double agent if you would. It took three years just to get her out of Chad and into this country. During that time she had maintained contact with only two people: Kaden Jakand and Anthony DiNozzo.”

“Tony?”

“He was the one to file the paperwork and coordinate with our operative to get her here. He was the ONLY agent the man trusted…”

“Which is why DiNozzo is presently the _only_ agent she trusts.”

“Once she was set up here in the US she would share Intel with us via DiNozzo. He would then pass it to one of our own Counter Intelligence agents.”

Fornell added, “Where she would then act on the Intel.”

“Who was the agent?”

“Someone he chose. He gave us a name and we’ve been working with her ever since.”

“Who?”

As a new knock sounded on the door Vance invited, “Come in.”

Turning he was only slightly surprised to see Nikki Jardine approach and take a seat. Gibbs looked at her then at Vance and said, “Tony picked _her_?”

“Yes. They worked together several times. She’s the only one he was willing to trust, especially when he suspected we have a leak.”

Gibbs’ eyes widened as he jerked in her direction. Nikki responded, “Yes I know about the leak. I’ve known for several months now.”

“Why?”

Vance fielded that question, “Because we believe the leak is actually in her department.”

“But you said my team…”

“Your team has had multiple contacts with the one we suspect, Agent Gibbs.”

“Khalil, you suspect Ziva’s friend.”

“Yes.”

“She’s your indirect link to my team.”

“Yes.”

“And we don’t think she’s working alone.”

“What makes you say that?”

Nikki tackled that question, “The connection between Tony and Kade was only known by a few people. We kept it buried, hidden from all records. There was absolutely _nothing_ tying the two together. Several months ago he went missing and no one has seen or heard from him since…that is until your team located him.”

Fornell picked up the story again, “Shortly after he went missing so did…”

“DiNozzo.”

“Yes. We suspect, well we _know_ , that he was tortured and the link between he and Agent DiNozzo was discovered. We’re not sure if they know about our newer source of Intel. There’s been no move made on her as far as we know, and she’s managed to drop off the grid along with her daughter.”

Vance added, “We think that DiNozzo told her, warned her, that if he disappeared she needed to go to ground as well. We’ve been unable to locate her since his disappearance.”

“We suspect he may have set her up with a separate identity as a fail-safe and that she’s now hiding under a new alias.”

“Do we know what this alias is?”

“I believe Agent McGee has just unearthed it.”

“The T Visa holder.”

"Yes.”

Nodding Gibbs further questioned, “Do you think she betrayed him?”

“No.”

“If she betrayed her own country why not him?”

Vance asked, “Gibbs do you recall the past and present climate of Chad?”

“What does that have to do with…?”

“Just…answer the question.”

“The country is dealing with a lot of unrest and upheaval…”

Vance interrupted, “Thousands of refugees flee into Chad from Sudan daily. The eastern areas of Chad are constantly being encroached upon by the Janjaweed militia from Sudan’s _Darfur_ region. Chad has even declared a state of emergency along their eastern border due to the spillover of violence. There have been multiple reports appearing on the systematic killings of villagers in Darfur. They’re labeling it as genocide, Gibbs. Rape is also at an all-time high as it’s being actively used as an instrument of terror and a weapon of war in South Sudan. In recent years the Sudanese government has even been accused of using chemical weapons on their own citizens… Gibbs, our girl wasn’t fleeing the Chadian government. She was fleeing the Sudanese government. The Intel she was providing DiNozzo is on Sudan, _not_ Chad. She was able to escape. She crossed the border disguised as a refugee. She is actually a government official who had been working for the Sudanese government for several years before she met our operative.”

“So what does all of this have to do with DiNozzo?”

“We suspect Khalil is the leak in our agency, and we’ve recently discovered that she’s not from the Middle East.”

“She’s from Sudan,” answered Jardine, “and I believe she is the one who sold Tony’s name to the Sudanese government.”

Fornell spoke up then, “We believe it was her that made DiNozzo a high priority target.”

Vance continued, “We also suspect that she may be connected to your revenge seeker and _together_ they are wreaking havoc.”

“Have you actually tied them together?”

“No.”

“But it would make sense.”

“How?”

“We have suspected since those photographs arrived that there is a second person aiding the one who’s actively targeting you. There has to be another player or half the things that have occurred would be impossible. We suspect one works from here and the other works from where ever they are presently holding Agent DiNozzo.”

“And we suspect whoever it is also works for the Sudanese.”

“You’re still not telling me everything are you?”

Vance lowered his head releasing a heavy sigh before responding, “I wish to hell that was everything, Gibbs.”

“Why? What else is…?”

“Tony pursued our spy’s Intel on his own.”

“Said that he wanted to make sure it was legit before he passed it on to me,” interrupted Jardine.

“And what he found is enough to end his life if it is ever discovered.”

“What did he find? Leon?”

Bracing for the reaction he no doubt would soon get Vance continued, “Tony found evidence that ties the village burnings and killings in Darfur to chemical weapons testing and human trafficking.”

_“What?”_

“It also appears that it may have all been sanctioned.”

“He found names, Gibbs, of UN police, border officials, military personnel, people in high positions using those roles and the power given to them to commit genocide and enslavement. Not only in Sudan but _here_ in the US as well. He also discovered that we’re not the only agency with an existing mole.”

“Our mole is most likely working for NISS.”

“National Intelligence? I…what?”

“The second set of numbers and letters, you said that McGee just linked them to a T Visa?”

“Yes to a Meera Shadid.”

“If that holder is who we suspect it is then our victim wasn’t actually a victim per say.”

“Then what was she?”

“ _She_ is the missing government official we just told you about. The one that DiNozzo has been helping. We believe the name McGee found is an alias, one that Tony _himself_ created.”

"A fail-safe if he were to ever disappear.”

“We also suspect that the evidence he found, the proof that links it all together…was hidden somewhere by him.”

“Which is the _real_ reason you moved on his desk so fast and were at DiNozzo’s house the night he disappeared.”

“Yes.”

Fornell added, “I was doing the cleanup, and also searching for his proof, but DiNozzo’s smart…”

“You didn’t find it, did you?”

“No.”

Gibbs commented more to himself then the three in the room, “He suspected he could be targeted.”

Nikki spoke up then, “Oh yes with the Intel he was given he was worried that we could _both_ become targets. He took many precautions to keep us as safe as he could, her too. He would have most likely succeeded to if not for our present leak.”

“And you’re sure it’s Samina Khalil?”

“I’ve been watching her, researching her. She was quick to befriend Agent David. She often would wander into the MCRT bullpen. I’ve seen her several times scanning Agent David and McGee’s desks as if searching for something.”

"She was seen snooping around Tony’s desk the day _after_ he disappeared.”

“Too many coincidences point to her being our mole. We just don’t have definitive proof."

Nikki added, “Which is what I’ve been attempting to gather for some time now. With Tony’s help it went a lot faster but…”

“Whoa, whoa, wait! With _Tony’s help_? He was helping you to find evidence against her?”

Nikki lowered her gaze aware that she now had three pairs of eyes directed at her. Licking her lips she swallowed hard before sitting up straighter in her chair and raising her gaze to all three. After several moments she answered, “Yes. He has suspected Samina Khalil for far longer than I have.”

“How does he even _know_ her?”

Nikki looked slightly offended before asking, “Do you really not know the answer to that question?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Tony is, he is very protective of the team. He watches all of your backs. When he suspects something is wrong or suspicious he investigates, _especially_ when it could potentially endanger any one of you.”

“What does that have to do with...?”

“She approached Agents’ David and McGee during your sabbatical. She was very careful to _only_ approach when Tony was not around. She actually went to great lengths to avoid him stating that he was arrogant and reckless as her reasons. What Tony figured out through research and observation is that she went to the _extreme_ to avoid him, _selectively_ approaching his teammates when he was not around. She never approached Tony and never approached them when he was nearby. She waited. She was very patient and deceptive. She didn’t want Tony to know about her or to find out about her, and Agent David being who she is, as well as Agent McGee, they said nothing. Your treatment of him combined with theirs is what allowed her to get so close to them and put her plans into action.”

“So Tony was suspicious of her?”

“He started watching her, conducting research and slowly unveiled a background and past that was shrouded in lies. Samina Khalil does not _exist_ , not alive anyway. She died when she was only a few days old. Tony discovered that her background is nearly non-existent before she came to NCIS. He also discovered that she had another name.”

“Another name?”

“Yes.”

Fornell spoke up then, “Tony discovered her real name, determined that she had stolen an identity and gave herself a whole new life.”

“Well if her name isn’t Samina Khalil then what the hell is it and why haven’t you brought her into interrogation already?”

“The name he was able to find is Najib, Samina Najib.”

Gibbs tensed then paling as he slowly sat back in his chair. Noting his reaction Vance questioned, “Gibbs, what is it?”

Licking his suddenly dry lips he asked, “What did he find out about her?”

"Not much, but I did.”

“And what did you find out about her?”

“She has a brother in Sudan who is employed by the Sudanese Air Force. We, I, suspect that he may be the one who abducted Tony initially.”

Swallowing hard he nodded asking, “And did you perhaps find a name for this brother?”

“Akeem.”

“Son of a bitch!”

“I take it you know of him?”

“Oh yeah.”

Vance interrupted then, “How well do you know him? Gibbs?”

Looking down now he shook his head before lifting his gaze to focus intently on Leon answering, “We met when I was in the corps.”

“And does he have any reason to want revenge on you?”

“Well, there was a mission, secret in which…his whole family except he and his sister were killed. It wasn’t my fault, but I suppose since I was team lead…”

“He could potentially blame you for their deaths.”

“Yes.”

“His whole family, Agent Gibbs?”

“Mother, father, younger sister, niece…bombing.”

“I don’t recall seeing that name on your list, Gibbs,” added Fornell. Gibbs glanced anxiously at him before continuing, “And you won’t…”

“Why not?”

“Because Akeem Najib was declared dead two years ago, victim of a Darfur air strike.”

Vance’s jaw twitched at that response as he mentally began to fit a few of the previously scattered puzzle pieces of this case firmly into place. Some of it was now beginning to make a lot more sense. As if he read his thoughts Fornell added, “Guess it’s safe to assume she found out.”

“Found out?”

“That Tony figured out who she was. Hell he probably even figured out some of her past as tenacious as he can be.”

“Which gives her a motive for making him disappear,” stated Vance.

“But why didn’t she eliminate him? If he was a threat to her why hand him over to the Sudanese government, that is what you’re implying right?”

“Yes and because she, no doubt, saw the perfect opportunity to get her revenge…”

“On _you_.”

“But it was her brother that…”

“You mentioned a niece.”

"You think it was her daughter?”

“Maybe, if not hers than the sister who was killed.”

“And there’s her motive for revenge against you,” Vance pointed out.

“And we all know that Tony is a huge chink in your armor…”

“Which makes him the perfect candidate for a revenge plan.”

“You think Akeem is the one who abducted Tony? The one who arranged it?”

“It would seem that is a rather big possibility.”

“And DiNozzo _would_ appeal greatly to the Sudanese government. He would be the perfect political prisoner.”

“What? How?”

Vance pinned Gibbs with an intense stare as he answered, “His position and clearance level _alone_ makes him a very appealing target.”

Fornell added, “If they broke him they could gain access to a lot of our secrets, Gibbs. You _know_ that. He’s the _Senior Field Agent_ of the DC MCRT. He is in line to take temporary control of this office if something were to happen to either of you. He’s your SENIOR agent, Gibbs…”

Vance bluntly stated, “And you’re MY senior agent. His position alone…”

“Okay. Okay. I got it. Tony’s a very valuable asset. I just…”

“Don’t like to admit it.”

Gibbs glowered at Fornell who continued, “You know we’re right, but to admit it means that you will have to face the facts.”

“The facts, Tobias?”

“That they will try just about ANY means to gain his compliance, and that is something you don’t want to think about…”

“Or even admit.”

Gibbs turned his venomous glare onto the Director. Nikki seeing the surmounting tension sharply interceded with, “Enough! Right now our focus is Tony. We _need_ to get him back. Fighting over his value is not getting us any closer to that particular goal, gentlemen.”

Tobias’ voice grew casual as he said, “She’s right you know.”

Silence fell between them for several moments before Gibbs strove to redirect the conversation as he posed his still unanswered question again, “Why haven’t you brought her into interrogation already?”

Fully aware of the reason Gibbs posed that question the Director settled on answering it, “Mainly because we didn’t want to let on that we know she is our mole.”

Nikki offered, “Aren’t we to the point now though where we really have no other choice? We know she is. Tony and I collected enough evidence to suggest that she is. We have no viable leads on this case, so why are we not bringing her in?”

Fornell answered, “Because it’s my call Miss Jardine.”

“Then why are you hesitating?”

Fornell eyed her than Gibbs before answering, “We pull her in and she’ll know that we know. If we let her go she will run to her contact. If we don’t let her go her contact will most likely investigate.”

Vance fielded that comment, “I understand that it’s a risk, but I think Miss Jardine’s right. I don’t believe we have much of a choice any longer, Agent Fornell. We have _nothing_ , and my agent has been gone far too long. We _need_ to get him back, and she may be our only means.”

“Or she could potentially lead us into a trap of her own making, tip off her contact, and trigger them to move DiNozzo from wherever the hell they are presently holding him thus making it impossible to ever find him again.”

“We don’t even know where to start looking, so we really don’t have all that much to lose.”

“How about Sudan…?” Gibbs interrupted.

“Which is a large country in the middle of a civil war.”

“It’s a _lead_ , and for some reason Tony _wants_ us to look there. We need to track it. He had a reason for pointing us in that direction, and we need to pursue it.”

“I agree. He’s leading us somewhere…”

“Most likely to our mysterious Miss Shadid.”

“Which could potentially get us closer to finding him.”

“What do you mean?”

Nikki interrupted, “She’s a Sudanese spy. She would most likely know some of their secrets, bases things like that. Maybe she would be able to give us a better idea of just where Tony could potentially be…”

“I agree. Let’s pursue DiNozzo’s lead, and let Miss Khalil in a state of ignorance for a bit longer. Once we find out why he left us the information he has…”

“Then can we bring her into interrogation?” persisted Gibbs.

Fornell glared at him for interrupting before sighing in frustration as he answered, “Okay yes, we’ll bring her into interrogation.”

Vance added, “But not _until after_ we track DiNozzo’s lead. Agreed?” Eyeing Fornell he responded, “Agreed.” Then he focused on Gibbs who nodded before informing, “I have McGee presently researching Meera Shadid to see if he can find any information on her…”

Fornell interrupted, “Uh you won’t find much of anything on her I assure you.”

“And why’s that?”

"Because that’s not her real name. It’s the name, the _identity_ that DiNozzo created for her I’m fairly certain.”

“What?”

“He created a false identity for her, pretty sure with Miss Scuito’s help. It was his way of protecting her should things go badly.”

“You mean should he be captured.”

“Yes.”

“So what? We have nothing?”

Fornell arched a brow as he answered, “You have _me_ , and to access that file you’ll need my help.”

“And why would we need your help?”

“Because your agent brought that Intel _to me_ , Agent Gibbs, not to you. It’s an FBI case therefore…”

Vance continued, “It falls under FBI jurisdiction.”

“And oh imagine that? I just happen to work for them.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you Fornell?”

“Not at all…well maybe a little, but honestly I just really want to get DiNozzo back. I mean let’s face it you’re a domineering overbearing bastard without him plus your team is a literal basket case. We NEED to get him back.”

“The sooner, the better.”

“For all of us _including_ him.”

****

_Abyei, North Sudan_

Tony watched him prowl back and forth in the small confines of his cell fingering a police baton. He knew that it would be a simple matter of time before that implement impacted his flesh. The colonel was toying with him, trying to intimidate him, trying to gain a reaction from him before once again exposing him to countless hours of repeated intense, brutal questioning and abuse.

As the man stopped directly in front of him he waited. It wasn’t long before the colonel filled the silent void casually addressing him, “Having been a cop I am sure you are very familiar with this particular item,” as if this were just an ordinary conversation instead of a prelude to the nasty beating he knew was coming in the very near future.

He glared at the colonel as he made his move leaning in, pushing the flat end of the baton up under his chin to force his head back. Tony watched him, reading his intentions in his eyes, aware of just what the bastard planned to do with said weapon, and having been struck by one in police training he knew it would hurt like a bitch. In fact, he knew how easily one could break bone with it. Knowing he shouldn’t but pissed off enough to he asked, “So _really_ this is your thing?”

“My _thing_?”

“Well the doctor likes to play with his blades. Good ole Akeem likes shock therapy, sadistic stress positions and taunts. Your thing I’m guessing is blunt force trauma?”

“How do you know it is not _insertion_ , Agent DiNozzo?”

His stomach twisted giving a little flop of nausea as he sneered in disgust replying, “You’re a really sick bastard, you know that?”

The colonel chuckled as he jeered, “Is that what will make you break, Agent DiNozzo? Make you _shatter_ into a thousand little pieces?”

Tony glowered, jaw twitching as he offered a sardonic grimace in response to the twisted taunt. The colonel smiled as he continued, “No, my dear Agent DiNozzo, I assure you I am not quite _that_ barbaric, as you well know. I do not do this for sadistic pleasure. My goals and intentions are much more honorable.”

“Since when is control and power honorable?”

The colonel laughed outright ignoring the obvious jab continuing, “Oh come now. We have had this discussion before must I really reiterate it?”

He continued to glare, eyes taking on an even colder glimmer than previously prompting the colonel to very happily reply, “Ah very well then we shall shelf that for another day.”

He didn’t answer only continued to glower.

The colonel chuckled as he leaned in prodding, “I admit I do so love to watch the way induced pain rips through the body setting off all those deliciously sensitive raw nerve endings. It’s a beautiful thing to behold. Have you ever studied it, Agent DiNozzo? The way it makes one shudder and cry out bitterly, twists their beautiful faces into a mélange of contours and severe lines? I find it invigorating.”

Tony bit back a retort saying nothing and tensing as the baton was moved delicately across his throat to rest at his left jaw bone forcing his head slightly to the right. He grit his teeth prepared to jerk away when the colonel pushed it further up his face and pressed the side of it diagonally across the hollow between his neck and jaw line. He then leaned in continuing, “No, no. See, no jerking away from me or I WILL break your jaw, Agent DiNozzo. It won’t kill you, but I assure you it will hurt like a bitch. Have you ever been struck with one of these before? I bet you have in training. Recall how painful they can be? I am guessing you were perhaps struck on the leg or arm? Remember that pain? Now just imagine how much you will feel if I should suddenly decide to crack you in the jaw with this. Oh I’d fear severely fractured jaw, shattered cheek bone, probably even a few broken teeth… Would you like that, Agent DiNozzo, to choke on your teeth as they slide down your throat?”

Swallowing hard, biting back his disgust at the descriptive threat, he tensed further refusing to offer any kind of reaction fully aware of what _would_ result if he were violently struck in the face with said weapon.

The colonel smiled as he spoke again, “You are truly exquisite, Agent DiNozzo.”

The muscle in his jaw suddenly twitched making the colonel’s smile stretch. “Hmm there, that is what I want to see. Your unbridled anger is so rare that even a slight peak at it is exhilarating.”

“You’re really twisted, you know that?”

The colonel _smiled_ leaning in closer. Tony automatically attempted to pull back halting when the colonel tsked him. Swallowing hard, pursing his lips, he pinned him with an acidic gaze as if to dare him to act on the previous threat. The colonel was delighted.

Studying his prisoner intently he chose to push just a bit more casually commenting, “Despite what you may believe we are the same you and I.”

_What? Where the hell did **that** come from?_

He wasn’t sure if he should be angry or offended by the unexpected comment. The colonel proceeded unaware of the internal dialogue running momentarily through his mind at that ridiculous suggestion, “We are driven by the need to protect and defend. We wear masks to conceal our true feelings and trust very few.”

Shifting at the sudden discomfort those comments triggered within he forced his mind to quiet and focused on the colonel once more. He continued smirking as if he had just read his thoughts, “We may presently be on different sides of a war that started long before we were ever born but deep down inside we want the same things.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Really? You desire to protect your family just like I desire to protect mine.”

“You maim and kill indiscriminately.”

"Do I now? And what of you? You too maim and kill.”

“I do so to defend myself and my friends, and I don’t _maim_.”

“No your aim is to kill. Usually three shots to the chest correct?”

Tony tensed gritting his teeth caught off guard by that question. The colonel persisted, “You do so to defend yourself and your friends. As do I, Agent DiNozzo, as do I. We are the ones who keep everyone safe. We do what must be done to accomplish a task. We enforce the law as our duties require us to. We have both killed before, and it is something we both do not readily enjoy, but it _is our job_ , is it not? To protect and serve, to defend those who cannot defend themselves? To help those in need, to ensure that _our_ citizens can sleep at night while we face the dangers head on to grant them that sort of peace. Our problem, Agent DiNozzo, is that sometimes, sometimes, we may care a bit too much for those we readily defend. WE have to constantly fight that pesky little rule: _Don’t get emotionally involved._ ”

“You are nothing like me.”

“Oh I beg to differ. We have equal strengths, similar characteristics. It is our justifications that differ, our reasons for doing as we must. We are men of action, Agent DiNozzo. We are men of strength and character. We do what we must, regardless of the consequences because it is _expected_ of us.”

“You want power.”

"And you want justice. You resist temptation while I give in to it. We are cut from the same cloth you and I. We are opposite sides of the same coin. Driven by the same basic needs, the same basic desires and the same motivations to push forward day in and day out, to do what we must to insure a better life for our people, for those we care about.”

“Are you seriously trying to justify your actions to me?”

“Tell me, have you ever seen a friend beaten to death right in front of you, Agent DiNozzo? No? Perhaps watched as a child cries in pain because he or she is starving? You say I maim and kill, that I do so indiscriminately and perhaps, perhaps I do, but _it is_ a battlefield out there, Agent DiNozzo, and my people fight daily to survive. There is a war virtually on our doorsteps at all hours of the day and night. People are being killed and all that remains are the women, children and a passel of elderly. Tell me what would _you_ do if your circumstances were just like mine?”

He allowed a lengthy pause before continuing, “We both know that I have no need to justify any of my actions because you would do the same thing, and you know that I am right. You just do not want to admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“That in the end when you strip us both down to our very cores we are quite simply _the same_.”

“No.”

“You can deny it all you want, but it will not change the truth.”

He knew that he shouldn’t, knew what the result would be, but would rather suffer through the pain than listen to this bastard talk of their similarities so without hesitation he inquired, “Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too damned much?”

Like clockwork he felt the baton being drawn away from his face, heard the colonel step back and tried to brace himself for what was to come. Even though the strike that proceeded the question was expected, it still hurt like a bitch. Diagonally across the outside of his upper left leg. The impact of the weapon against skin was loud and it took damned near all his strength not to cry out as his leg gave out, but at least it succeeded in shutting the asshole up. That was until the colonel _laughed_. He was really beginning to hate that laugh. It sounded a mix between delight and insanity, like he was playing with a favorite toy. The thought sent chills up his spine and all he could do was draw in a sharp breath as the baton was once again wedged, this time more forcefully, against his throat.

The colonel smiled brightly as he continued, “Okay I admit I rather enjoyed taking the bait on that one.”

Swallowing hard he slowly drew the leg firmly back under him before opening his eyes to glower at the colonel his eye twitching as he struggled to rein in his anger once more.

****

_NCIS Headquarters – MCRT Bull Pen_

After the intense meeting in the Director’s office Gibbs wanted more answers. Quickly he approached his junior agent demanding, “Okay McGee fill me in. What can you tell me?” and hoping he had found _something_.

Tim looked up noting the tension crossing his boss’ face. Apparently the meeting had been quite trying. Forcing himself back onto the task at hand he offered, “Meera Shadid’s records only go back approximately five or six months, boss.”

“About the same time as Tony’s disappearance?”

Cocking his head as he thought back to when Tony disappeared he answered, “I…yes.”

"What have you found?”

“Um not a whole lot. She has a T Visa linked to her name.”

“Which we already knew…”

“Yeah the numbers Abby gave me and…”

"And? Spit it out, Tim.”

“And…there’s a PO Box also linked to her name, but nothing else. Boss, if you dig deep enough there’s no evidence to suggest that Meera Shadid even _existed_ other than a birth certificate for her and a child. It all looks legit, but there’s no mention of her anywhere else that I could find.”

“Tony would have been more thorough.”

“Tony? What does he have do with…?”

“She have a classified file, Tim?”

“Uh yeah boss. She does.”

“Can you get into it?”

“Well yeah, uh sure, just give me a few minutes.”

He worked at it softly cursing as he soon reported, “Password protected and encrypted...”

“Do I need to call, Abby?”

“No. Let me see if I can figure it out.”

“Think like Tony.”

“What?”

“You need to think like Tony or you’ll never crack it.”

“Boss…”

“Just do it McGee.”

“I don’t…”

“If he wanted to get a message to us and _only_ us what would he have to do to ensure no others could gain access to it? You _need_ to think like Tony.”

Fornell approached then having caught the tail end of the conversation before adding, “And you need to have the correct clearance level, which McGee presently doesn’t have.”

“What?”

“His clearance level was higher than yours Gibbs. It _had_ to be. Even _you_ can’t access that file.”

“But you can?”

“He brought the information to me so yes.”

“But he’d know we would be the ones to find it.”

“And he knew I’d be nearby to help.”

“Okay so help already.”

Leaning over Fornell entered a sequence of numbers that gave him access to the file they were attempting to breach. Again more encryption and another password was being requested. Fornell chuckled as he offered, “He’s good.”

“What?” demanded McGee.

Fornell ignored the outburst as he continued, “Bet Miss Scuito could figure this out quicker than you, Agent McGee.”

“What? Why?”

“Because DiNozzo trusted her, not you. He left this for her to figure out. I’m sure of it.”

“Tony couldn’t do this…”

“Want to place a bet on that, Agent McGee? I assure you that I will be collecting. DiNozzo was a hell of a lot smarter than he let on. Never underestimate him. He’s always thinking three steps ahead. It’s kind of how his mind works.”

"Cop mentality,” commented Gibbs.

“Yeah something like that.”

It took some time and still he made no headway. Gibbs had taken to pacing back and forth behind him often pausing to lean over his shoulder making it even harder to concentrate. Fornell simply sat at Tony’s presently empty desk feet propped up a smile stretching from ear to ear as he watched McGee attempt to breach a code he knew DiNozzo and Miss Scuito had most likely designed. He waited for the ball to drop, for Gibbs to finally give up and pass the reins to Miss Scuito.

After waiting for McGee to make even slight sense of the encryption he finally huffed saying, “Get Abby up here.”

“What? Boss I can…”

Looking around he noted how many people were in the immediate area and suddenly felt a bit anxious. He scanned for the elusive Miss Khalil, or should he start calling her Miss Najib, and his gut twisted. How could he have been so stupid, so damned careless? Shaking his head and pursing his lips he quietly ordered, “McGee need you to stop what you’re doing, wipe out the searches you were just conducting and make your way to Abby’s lab.”

Tim turned to look at Gibbs confusion and surprise crossing his facial features as he questioned, “Uh boss…”

Gibbs glanced around again noting that Tobias had since approached asking, “What is it, Jethro?”

“My gut and we shouldn’t be doing this here out in the open.”

“It’s the MCR…”

“And _what_ did you and the Director just get done telling me?”

“Shit! We got careless.”

Nodding he leaned over McGee as he softly questioned, “Can you wipe out any evidence of what you were accessing? Eliminate it so that _no one_ can track it?”

“ _Including_ your interpretation of what those random letters and numbers were.”

McGee jerked his head up gazing questioningly at Fornell who simply answered, “It’s very important, Agent McGee, that _no one_ else knows what you have discovered.”

“But it was just a code that…”

“That could potentially get someone killed if certain _parties_ realize what it is.”

“Okay, okay. On it, boss…uh I mean Agent Fornell but…”

“Do it.”

“Yes…yes, sir.”

Quickly McGee complied with Fornell’s directions and eliminated any trace evidence of what he had been doing. Then questioned, “Um boss what’s going on?”

“What’s going on is we need to move to a more secure area, Tim. We should have never started this particular search _here_.”

“Uh here, boss? What’s…?”

Fornell cut in, “No more questions until we get to Miss Scuito’s lab. Now did you write anything down, tell anyone what you were researching or speak to anyone about anything that has happened today other than us?”

“Uh no. I’ve been at my desk since last night so no.”

“Any visitors perchance?”

“Uh no, no just me.”

“Good, McGee, good job,” added Gibbs. Then he said, “First conference room. Then Abby’s lab.”

Fornell arched a brow as he inquired, “Are you sure we should…”

“Yes…and he’s going to find out anyway, Fornell. He already figured out his clue.”

“True, but if this goes pear-shaped…”

“I’ll hand you my ass on a silver platter, Tobias.”

“Good.”

Nodding they waited for McGee to finish eliminating all evidence of what he had been doing and had discovered before heading to the elevator to catch him up on the basics of what was going on.

****

_Abyei, North Sudan_

_Later That Evening..._

The colonel’s threat continued to echo in his mind, but each time he closed his eyes they would come to him pleading for justice, pleading for vengeance. She had been so very young. She had their mother’s eyes and his sister’s bright smile. She was the youngest of them, and had she still been alive she would now be twenty-three. His niece would be thirteen and most likely the spitting image of his sister. Their loss combined with the loss of their parents is what drove them to set up an elaborate plan to destroy the bastard who caused it all. He HAD to pay, and sadly another would have to take his place. He did not deserve to suffer for the sins of a bastard, but was unfortunate enough to be one of the few people the asshole seemed to care about. To lose him would devastate his nemesis. Combine _his_ loss with _hers_ and he would inevitably fall apart.

It was a true shame that neither of them deserved to pay the price. They shouldn’t have to be the sacrifices for his crimes, but they were the most important people in his life. To eliminate the two of them would cut him deep, carving out his heart and giving him a small sampling of the hell he and his sister had suffered from the loss of their family. He knew that just holding him here was enough to torment the hell out of the bastard. His sister reported often and usually it was to inform him that he was flailing and his team was falling apart all because they had captured and trapped his SFA. His sister had been correct when she had urged him to target them first. The sheer torment of his loss combined with the ever hanging threat over his pretty scientist were slowly destroying him. The fact that their investigation repeatedly was meriting _nothing_ also added to his torment. Not to mention that in having forcefully removed _him_ the team was crumbling as well. Oh it was pure bliss, and it would be both a bitter and sweet victory.

He, _they_ , would eventually get their revenge, but first they wanted to toy with him, to stretch it out and make him suffer. Revenge, after all, was a dish best served cold. They had suffered for years from the devastating loss of their loved ones. It was only fair that he would also have to suffer the loss of his.

The phone ringing interrupted his thoughts. Knowing who it was he picked it up with a smile upon his lips as her voice rang with a cheerful “Hello, brother.”

“And how are you my sweet sister?”

“Very well and you?”

“Managing.”

“How are things on the home front?”

“We are filling up rapidly. How is the fair leader?”

“Hmm deliciously falling apart. He is becoming most desperate to find his missing lamb. The others are beginning to grow weary.”

“So they have no idea where he is?”

"Not even a _hint_ , dear brother. You have hidden him far too well, even our little Miss Mossad with all her connections cannot find a single solitary _trace_ of him. It is very frustrating for them I fear.”

“Good. I believe it is far passed time I start making him pay dearly for what he has done to us.”

“We are… Wait. What are you saying? What are you thinking?”

“ _He_ is intrigued by him, finds him _fascinating_.”

“And this bothers you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

"Because he has started to warn me to tread lightly.”

“Which means you are becoming far too lax with your self-control, dear brother.”

“I am merely doing my job.”

“When you loosen the reins on your self-control people tend to get seriously hurt. You _must_ tread carefully or he _will_ kill you.”

The angry retort of, “He _insists_ that we not jeopardize his life,” came across the wires loud and clear prompting her next statement, “And we NEED him ALIVE. Dead he is of no use to us. You know this! He has much information that would help us, help _our people_. You cannot let revenge blind you dear brother. You must remember that he is not your only means of gaining it.”

"He **must** pay.”

“Yes but not at the cost of our biggest source of possible Intel we have ever managed to gain!”

“Whose side are you on?”

“Yours of course, but you must think rationally where he is concerned. We want revenge on his BOSS, and information from HIM. It is a fine line you are daring to walk.”

“Are you attempting to _lecture_ me, sis?”

“You are losing your focus. We NEED him. We do not need his boss.”

“But I **HAVE** _him_. Why should I not take some pay back?”

Her fearful response came back, “Because he WILL kill you!”

“He would do no such thing.”

“He perceives him as _his_. We do not destroy or attempt to destroy what belongs to HIM, especially after all he has done to get to him.”

“Listen to you. You are afraid of him and you are a million miles away.”

“You do remember the stories, brother. They are not just stories. You are playing a very dangerous game and against him you will lose every time! He holds all the power. You do not threaten what belongs to him.”

“We must break him, so yes I do.”

“Do not push him. You will lose.”

"He needs to PAY! And I have the means to do so. I will not be ordered to stand down!” He bellowed across the line triggering her sharp retort of, “You need to control your anger before you do something that cannot be undone! You must…”

Slamming the phone down he charged out of the room extremely angry and wanting to lash out. Be careful with him? Tread lightly? We need him? What about _his_ needs? _His_ desires? He wanted Leroy Jethro Gibbs to SUFFER, and he had the means within his reach! Why should he hold back? The bastard NEEDED to pay, and he had a direct line in which to do that so why should he not take full advantage of it?

Storming through the halls he was unaware of the many people who shuffled quickly out of his way. He was pissed. He would not allow others to dictate to him! He refused to be ordered around. No. He would get his revenge, and he would get it HIS WAY. Damn the colonel and his lousy threats. Damn any who stood in his way! He had every right to get revenge, and he had the means to do so! He would not be stopped!

Coming to an abrupt halt he drew in a calming breath, eyes lifting as he became aware that he was no longer marching down the hall. As his gaze settled on the lone door before him a wicked grin spread across his lips as he realized just _whose door_ it was. Unlocking it he entered cheerily addressing, “Hello my dear Anthony. How are you this fine evening?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things brought up in the discussion between Vance, Fornell and Gibbs in this chapter are loosely based on events and reports from certain countries in Africa primarily Chad and Sudan. Some of the information came from the CIA country profiles on their website, others from various research I have conducted on the issues occurring in each country as well as the country histories. As I mentioned in my beginning notes this story is a work of FICTION. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental and a product of my vivid imagination.


	15. The Complexities of Progress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh just in time for Halloween! Happy Halloween everyone! :)
> 
> Okay so the way it's looking, for those who are curious or just plain want to know, the rescue will most likely be occurring in Chapter 17, unless things alter drastically for any reason. It also looks as if the next part (aptly titled "The Grand Delusion") will be quite lengthy as a lot of territory will need to be covered in order to get to Tony's rescue. We're in the final stretch and far passed time for some Tony loving! :)

_Washington D.C.  
NCIS Headquarters_

When he had first found out about Tony’s abduction he didn’t believe it. He _couldn’t_ believe it. Seriously, how could he? It had to be a mistake. Those pictures had to be in his imagination. There was no way that his partner had been held captive for four months without any of their knowledge. It was impossible! Wasn’t it? 

He had wanted to vehemently deny it, of course, deny what they were being told. It couldn’t be true. Tony had QUIT. He just _had to_ because if he hadn’t, if he had truly been abducted… Then they had all failed him spectacularly. They had all inadvertently contributed to the torture and abuse he was no doubt presently suffering. He couldn’t accept that. There was no way it was true. There was no way that they could have abandoned Tony to what amounted to a literal hell on Earth. NO WAY!

They had been informed _by the Director_ that Tony had tendered his resignation. Why _wouldn’t_ they believe it? Why would the Director lie about such a thing? Why would he allow them to believe something that wasn’t true? The answer to that imminent question didn’t leave him feeling much better: he wouldn’t at least not without a damned good reason. The fact that he had lied to all of them point blank and kept concealed the true reason for Tony’s absence meant that there was something else going on, something very serious. The only thing he could come up with was the possibility of either another mole or someone they worked with being involved. They were blind fools. None of them, not even _Gibbs_ , made an attempt to check into it. They chose to believe the Director and had become angry and bitter as a result. What the hell ever happened to that infamous **Rule # 3:** _Never believe what you are told. Double check?_ Apparently that rule, along with Tony, had been quickly discarded and forgotten. Cast aside never to be dredged up again.

The guilt of those actions was eating at each and every one of them now, and sadly they all had plenty to feel guilty and ashamed about. The biggest being that they had all _believed_ Tony had quit and had believed it to be true for **FOUR MONTHS**. For four months they had cursed Tony’s name, lashed out at him for leaving, gave Abby a ration of shit for daring to keep pictures of him in her lab, refused to listen when she said that it didn’t seem right. They had shunned him, railed at him and violently pushed him and their memories of him, right out of their minds. They had all been determined to forget him because they had been so certain that he had dared to leave them, had dared to quit…and honestly looking back now? Who could blame him? They weren’t the epitome of support they all pretended to be. They weren’t friends, well they were, but they were piss poor imitations of friends considering how terribly they had treated him for so very long. Perhaps, perhaps that’s why they all found it so easy to believe a lie…because deep down they all knew that Tony had every right to leave. No one would want to stay where they weren’t wanted, and honestly they had been treating him like crap. Who in their right mind would stay with a group of people as selfish, destructive and toxic as they were? 

Looking back now he realized that Tony had said and did _nothing_ to even suggest that he had been contemplating leaving. When they were told they had all simply _accepted_ it. They had truly believed that Tony chose to abandon them and move on with his life. Once the realization of his absence had settled they all proceeded to struggle with moving on unable to let go of the deep sense of betrayal they had all felt at Tony’s insolence. None of them though had ever truly moved on. They went through the motions of their jobs, occasionally glanced at the empty desk across from Ziva’s and chose to let their anger and rage fester. Instead of attempting to check on him, to look for him or find out what had really happened they all ignored him. They chose to forget him, to push him as far out of their minds as they possibly could. They were fine without him. They didn’t need him, had _never_ needed him. No doubt he was happier now…and they resented him for possibly finding happiness beyond them. They had washed their hands of him vowing never to speak of him again.

They had _betrayed_ him. They had turned their backs on him when they should have been looking out for him. They should have tried harder to track him, attempted to seek him out to convince him to return to them. They should have double checked what they were told, but none of them _had_. Instead they chose to wallow in self-pity, to remain blissfully ignorant of the life of a person they had at one time dared to claim as _family_. They were terrible people, **all** of them. 

Shuddering he slammed a door on those thoughts trying hard to convince himself his partner was perfectly fine. He was fooling no one but himself. They had left him behind to suffer and die utterly and completely ALONE. It was unforgivable, and due to their ignorance they might never see Anthony DiNozzo again. If they didn’t, if they couldn’t find him, then how would they be able to live with it? How could they live with all that guilt, all that doubt and all that shame? They had quite literally abandoned him. They had abandoned a person who would _never_ do the same to them. They were supposed to have his back, have his six and cover him as he had always done for them, but in their anger and rage, their perceived slights they had forgotten one of the golden rules of being a federal agent: _Never screw over your partner._

They had to make this right. They had to find him and bring him home. There was no longer any room for excuses. They had wasted too much precious time already believing lies. It was time to finally buck up, accept responsibility and do something to resolve the situation. It was time to bring one Anthony DiNozzo Junior HOME!

Entering the elevator McGee reasserted that statement in his mind. It was time to do his damned job. They needed to bring Tony home, and he’d be damned if he would slack off again!

Focusing on the two men who had entered with him he waited. When the only thing they exchanged was a tense look he bit the bullet stepping up to take the reins. Wheeling on both of them he firmly demanded, “Okay tell me what the hell is going on?”

Both men were caught off guard by McGee’s attitude. Seeing his determination Fornell sighed before reaching for the brake as Gibbs turned to focus intently on him informing, “First thing you need to know, McGee, is that message you figured out… It was left _by Tony_.”

“What?” _That_ he had definitely not expected. 

Gibbs continued, “It was found in the glove box of the car...”

“Are you sure, boss? I mean…”

“Abby confirmed that it’s his writing and his fingerprint was found at the scene.”

“Wait. Why didn’t I know about this?”

Fornell interrupted, “Because it’s my case, Agent McGee, and I didn’t want my investigation compromised. I told him to keep it quiet as well as Miss Scuito.”

“But why? I mean…”

“McGee there’s a hell of lot more going on here than you realize. Tony’s abduction wasn’t just a coincidence. Someone _wanted_ to get their hands on him, and they had the Intel to pull it off.”

“And you’re just telling me this now because… Wait you think... You think it was one of us?”

“Have to say the thought has crossed my mind, Agent McGee,” cut in Fornell.

He was offended but shoved that feeling towards the back of his mind focusing on what had led them here in the first place, “The girl, this Meera Shadid, you think she has something to do with it?”

Neither answered that comment, instead a tense silence permeated the air. Gibbs and Fornell exchanged a heated glance with one another before Fornell broached the topic they were carefully veering around, “Tell me what you know about Samina Khalil, Agent McGee.”

Gibbs arched a brow towards Tobias who simply shrugged as they waited for his response or reaction. When there was none immediately forth coming they both pinned a gaze on him Gibbs ordering, “Answer him, Agent McGee. What do you know about Samina Khalil?”

He flinched, opened his mouth, closed it and then opened it once more before licking his bottom lip and answering, “She’s Ziva’s friend.”

As if that answered everything. Another silent exchange occurred between the two older agents. When neither of them said anything he continued, “She met her in Israel when they were children.”

“And when did she first start approaching you?”

Stumbling briefly over a response he tried to figure out where this line of questioning was leading, “Well she transferred in during Director Sheppard’s… Sorry, boss. She came in about the same time as Ziva transferred.”

“They come together?”

“No. At least I don’t think so. She approached Ziva. They exchanged some words then hugged. She’s been hanging out with her ever since. Helped her immensely when Tony left…um was taken.”

“Hmm.”

“Boss, why are you asking about Samina?”

Ignoring the question he posed another, “Did you meet her?”

“Well yeah, of course. I mean…”

“When?”

“Ziva introduced us.”

“And Tony?”

“What about Tony?”

“He ever meet her?”

“Uh no, I mean not that I know of.”

“And that didn’t seem odd to you?”

“No just figured she didn’t like him, is all.”

“And what made you think that, McGee?”

“Well she never came around when he was here, and she avoided him. I just assumed…”

“She didn’t like him?”

“Well yeah, boss. What else was I supposed to think?”

“She never seemed suspicious? Acted strange or…?”

“Why are you asking? What’s going on?”

Looking at Fornell he received a blank unreadable expression. Turning to Gibbs he addressed, “Boss, what’s going on? You don’t think she was involved in…”

“Involved, Agent McGee?” casually prodded Fornell.

“In…in Tony’s abduction.”

“Now why would you ask a question like that, Agent McGee?”

“I just…well you just had this apparently intense meeting with the Director, then ordered me to wipe out all trace of the research I was told to conduct before pulling me in here.” Turning towards Gibbs he took the most direct approach, “How’s she involved in his disappearance, boss?”

Fornell interrupted, “We don’t…”

Gibbs glowered at him Fornell’s jaw twinging as if he were biting back words…or anger before he addressed Gibbs, “You said _your gut_ tells you he’s not involved.”

“We don’t know that, Tobias.”

“Well what have we got to lose? He’s in too deep now.”

McGee interrupted with a tense, “Wait. Hold up. What the hell is going on, boss?”

“What’s going on, McGee, is that we need to continue this discussion in Abby’s lab. _Now_.”

Wanting to say more he opened his mouth, quickly closing it and offering a sharp nod in reply… Whatever was going was obviously important, and for whatever reason he had been deliberately kept out of the loop. He wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about that but wanting answers he opted to follow his boss’ lead.

As silence fell in the elevator car Gibbs flicked a switch and they were moving again. Their destination: Abby’s lab.

**

_NCIS Headquarters – Abby’s Lab_

Hearing his approach Abby turned saying, “Gibbs, Gibbs…” her voice trailing off as she pinned McGee with a poisonous gaze that had said agent stumbling in surprise at the outward hostility she had presently on display. Now what the hell had he done to garner _that_ type of derision? What the hell was going on?

His eyes narrowed as she demanded, “What is _he_ doing here?”

“Okay someone want to tell me just what the hell is going on here because I’m really getting tired of not knowing anything!” snapped McGee. He was nearly at the end of his limit with all of the glowering, overly assessing looks he’s been getting since entering that damned elevator. 

Instead of answering his question Gibbs chose to approach the young Goth and inform, “New information, Abs. We need to have a discussion.”

“Okay…” came her leery reply eyes still pinning McGee with a mix of overt suspicion and anger. Stepping in front of her to break her apparent stare down with his junior agent he continued, “And we need your help with something.”

That drew her attention fully back on him and her eyes softened, her whole countenance relaxing. Fornell could only shake his head. Gibbs’ team was insane…literally. Turning his gaze onto Agent McGee he opted for quiet observation as Miss Scuito softly questioned, “My help? Why?”

Gibbs leveled a gaze on her as he said one word, “Tony.”

That drew her complete and undivided attention. She was now looking expectantly at him waiting for him to continue as she demanded more information, “Tony? What about Tony?”

Fornell answered, “Seems he left us quite the clue.”

Excited now she bounced questioning, “You figured it out?” 

“Tim did but…”

Abby waited when the wait stretched she pushed, “But?”

“He has it encrypted and password protected out the wazoo.”

She smiled brightly at that information, proud of Tony. Her efforts to help him with getting a better grasp on the computer and coding must be paying off. 

Gibbs interrupted her thoughts as he continued, “We need a secure computer to continue breaking it.”

She looked smugly at McGee as she responded, “Is that all?”

“No, Miss Scuito, it’s not.”

Gibbs followed up with, “It would seem he left his clue and the decoding of that clue…”

“He left it for you, Miss Scuito. I’m certain.”

“For me?”

“He trusts you, Abs.”

“Apparently a hell of a lot more than the rest of his team.”

“Ah little Timmy couldn’t decode Tony’s firewalls and scripts then?”

McGee wanted to snap back, but settled on glaring at her startling only slightly when Fornell complimented his missing team mate’s apparently much improved computer skills, “Oh he’s good.”

“Of course he is. I helped teach him.”

McGee couldn’t rein in the question, “What do you mean _helped_?”

“Not that it’s any of your business," Gibbs forcefully interrupted, “but he’s been taking classes, trying to keep up to date with his skill set. Something you should also be doing.”

He shifted uncomfortably under Gibbs heated stare and promptly closed his mouth. Fornell took advantage of the momentary silence as he informed, “Agent McGee has been working on it for some time with little success. I think it’s time that you took a crack at it. See if you can figure it out.”

Nodding she said, “He was beginning to write his own source codes. We worked on a few. If he wants me to figure it out it will probably be one he and I worked on together.”

Nodding in acknowledgment Gibbs continued, “If Tobias is right, and I believe that he is, Tony left this information specifically for you to find.”

“Okay so what have we got?”

“A puzzle that needs solving.”

“Tony wants us to know something and went to great depths to ensure only WE know it or can figure it out.”

“Then let’s get cracking. McGee can…assist me if…”

Her arched brow at Gibbs had him answering, “Knows some of what’s going on, not everything though.”

“Good enough for me. Timmy get over here and help me crack Tony’s code.”

And if that wasn’t the craziest thing Tim had heard in a long time he didn’t know what was. His team mate, _Tony DiNozzo_ , knew how to write code and…? It just seemed…strange. Pushing it out of his mind as he found himself once again being reminded that he didn’t know his partner as well as he thought he had he offered Abby assistance.

It took some time but finally they managed to hack into it and called Gibbs over. Tim was indeed very impressed with Tony’s apparent unknown skill. He was good, almost scarily good. Shaking his head he pushed his stirring jealousy to the back of his mind forcing his attention on the here and now. He’d deal with those darker feelings later.

Gibbs quickly approached leaning over McGee’s shoulder to look at what they had found. It was a detailed breakdown of a background dossier which he was certain was all fabricated by his missing agent. It was convincingly realistic and extremely thorough. He spoke up then, “Now that’s what I expected to see. Good work, Tony.”

“Boss?”

“False identity. Tony created it.”

“What? How can you…?”

“I just know, Tim. It’s a bread crumb. He was thorough, gave her a full workup probably had Abby’s help…”

“He did. We worked on this some time ago. I had almost forgotten about it. Asked me to help him create a false identity, papers and everything for a friend.”

“And you didn’t think to ask him about it?” demanded McGee.

“No, Tim, he’s done it before, so nothing new or unusual about it.”

_“What?”_

Gibbs glared at his junior agent snipping, “Apparently there’s still a lot you don’t know about your own partner, Agent McGee. Perhaps it’s time you learned to look beyond his masks.”

He wanted to snap back, to argue but quickly stamped that desire out admitting hastily that he never really knew Tony as well as he thought he had.

A smack to the back of the head and an insistent, “Focus,” had him returning his gaze to the screen courtesy of one angry Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

Fornell interrupted then pointing at the screen as he said, “There! There’s her most recent address… He left this here for us to find, left us her address so we could track her down. Gibbs, we need to destroy this.”

“Boss, I don’t…”

Gibbs still focusing intently on the address himself interrupted, “If we can find her we may possibly find a link to him.”

Fornell added, “Gibbs, you know what we have to do with this file. As long as it exists it could become compromised and…”

Nodding in agreement he addressed, “Tim…”

“Yeah boss?”

“Copy that file then delete it.”

“Delete it? Are you…?”

Abby was already way ahead of him glaring at McGee as she interrupted, “Stop questioning it and do as he says.”

“But…”

Gibbs huffed in frustration at McGee’s attempts to question a command. His patience running thin he insisted, “He left it for us to find. No doubt has the original file himself. _Delete it._ ”

“And stop questioning the bossman!”

He glared at Abby who glared right back, hands now on her hips as if she were ready to ream him a new one. He was certain had there not been two others in the room she very well may have. Shifting uncomfortably he managed, “On it.”

“And Tim?”

“Yeah boss.”

“This stays between us.”

“Boss?”

“Ziva is not to know of it.”

“But…”

His jaw twitched as he ground his teeth together before snapping, “Is that _understood_ , Agent McGee?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Hesitating only a moment he posed, “Uh why though?”

Insolence and arguments, questioning a senior agent, hesitating to do as told… It had become so much worse than he had ever realized. If McGee was questioning him he no doubt often blew off Tony’s directions. Things _had_ to change! No team could run and function properly when the junior agents felt comfortable enough to _argue and question_ every damned direction given. Feeling the heated gaze of his friend and seeing his own frustration at the audacity of a junior agent to question a senior agent he exchanged a glimpse with Tobias nodding his head as if to quietly inform that yes he _would_ be dealing with the overt insubordination and damned soon!

Attention drawn back to the young agent who still hadn’t followed his command, who still dared to look on in question he ordered, “Because I said so, McGee! Now stop questioning every order I give!”

“But…”

“Just do it!”

Bristling in response to his boss’ tone he closed his mouth unaware of the intense exchange between the two older men or Abby’s disappointed shake of her head. 

His behavior had become worse than even she had ever expected to see. He had the makings of a good agent, once upon a time. It’s one of the reasons Tony was so insistent he be brought onto their team. Now she wondered when the hell that had changed. Oh she knew he often questioned Tony, gave him a ration of shit, but she never realized just how horrible he was with following simple rules and directions. It was as if he saw no distinction between junior and senior agents. It was as if he saw himself as superior to those who had years of experience on him in the field, and an agent with that kind of arrogance was a danger to any team. As she looked at Gibbs she knew that he now saw it too. Tony and she had pointed it out to him repeatedly using different tactics and methods to get him _to notice_ , but it hadn’t fazed him. Now? Now he was seeing it, beginning to understand, and she was certain by the determined look crossing his facial features that there would be changes coming…for _all_ of them. Well, it was about damned time!

****

_Abyei, North Sudan_

_One Week Later…_

Entering the room the colonel focused intently on the man occupying the center of it. Presently he was secured in a crouching position, heels pulled up by use of rope forcing him to balance on his toes while his wrists were handcuffed together between his legs, arms firmly shackled tight to bolts embedded in the floor. The position was one of extreme strain on the human body. He was no doubt in terrible agony and unable to relieve it at all. Akeem’s recklessness was becoming more apparent as he went beyond cruel with this particular stress position. It was malicious and inhumane.

As he turned to look at him the colonel cursed. Quickly approaching he lowered before him, reaching out to cup Tony’s cheek in his left hand. The moment he made the move Tony violently flinched and jolted away, sucking in a ragged breath as pain answered the movement prompting the colonel to harshly snap, “Hold still, Agent DiNozzo!”

Slowly he turned to focus on the man glowering at him and leery, watching as he once again carefully pressed his hand to his cheek. Unable to bite back his reply he managed, “What’s with the touching, Colonel?”

The colonel eyed him feeling the overly warm skin beneath his palm from the excessive swelling and bruising present. How had Akeem not broken his jaw with the force he had to have placed behind the blows to cause _this_ amount of damage?

Very much aware that _he_ was indeed the source of the present injuries he was pissed. He had warned him to maintain control and not go so far that they could lose him. Apparently Akeem had no self-control. Licking his own lips he spoke, “I see that Akeem has become very heavy handed with you as of late, Agent DiNozzo.”

“Nah just pissed.”

“I must say I do not believe that black and blue are quite your colors.”

Tony focused intently on the man drawing his tongue across his split lip before managing, “Very funny.”

“Hmm looks painful.”

 _Seriously?_ “Brilliant deduction, Colonel.”

He grinned before continuing, “I see that his lack of self-control has not diminished your fire any.”

“Hmm…truth is…too much pain to give a shit. Bastard’s a sadistic little prick….like to put him in one of these damned stress positions.”

“How long has he abandoned you to such a fate this time?”

Turning his gaze towards the ceiling as he tried to give the question some serious thought he quietly murmured, “Not really sure… couple days…guess.”

Watching the man intently he was a bit disturbed to see him suddenly tip forward, eyes closing, head dropping before jarring in place and releasing a choked cry of anguish as he managed, “Sorry…tired…”

He must _really_ be in pain if he was putting voice to weakness. The colonel was not pleased…at all. In fact the man looked beyond exhausted, like death warmed over. What the hell was Akeem thinking?

As if he had heard him Tony continued rambling, “Hmm…taking his revenge…bit far.”

Gently moving his hand from his cheek to under his chin he lifted his head up to examine him further. Tony was staring intently at his other hand. Wondering what had caught the weakened man’s attention he opened his mouth to ask when Tony muttered an unexpected, “It’s a tribal design.”

“What?”

“It’s a tribal design.”

Worried now he responded, “You are rambling, Agent DiNozzo.”

“No, no. It’s your tat…finger…tribal design, right?”

Glancing briefly at his other hand he returned his focus to the one before him who was struggling even more to keep his eyes open and maintain his balance on perched toes. He was impressed for even when in considerable discomfort and obvious pain, exhausted no doubt beyond his limits he was still so very observant. Smiling in pleasure he answered, “Very observant indeed, and the answer to your question is yes.”

“Why?”

“That is rather personal, which I believe you already know since you have a friend who has a fascination with such things.”

He glared accusing, “Poking ‘round in my life ‘gain, Colonel.”

“Of course. As I have told you many times before, Agent DiNozzo, YOU fascinate me.”

“Don’t know why…not that inter…resting.”

Sighing the colonel responded, “I would so relish the opportunity to teach your Agent Gibbs to actually learn to APPRECIATE his SFA. He is much too lax where you are concerned.”

Eyes sliding shut again as he leaned subconsciously into the colonel’s supporting hand he muttered, “Second B…bastard.”

“You are rambling again.”

Forcing his eyes open and back up to that of the colonel’s he huffed answering with a simple, “Hmm well lack of sleep and sustenance will do that to you, Colonel.”

“Damn Akeem.”

“Wants REVENGE, using me…get it.”

“Yes I am aware, but he is growing far too lax with your care.”

Confused by that statement Tony settled on a soft, “Wow really bothers you…doesn’t it Colonel?”

Not answering the question directly he simply said, “I have told you numerous times that you are MINE, Agent DiNozzo. You belong to me. You are my responsibility. His recklessness with your care is dangerous.”

“Creepy bastard.”

“Perhaps.”

“Hmm no perhaps ‘bout it. You’re just…creepy bastard.”

Rolling his eyes he continued, “And you are far too weary to be making such accusations, Agent DiNozzo.”

“No accusation…truth…creepy.”

“Gratifying indeed.”

“What?”

Shaking his head he studied him once again noting just how nice it was to be able to have a conversation with someone who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind.

“Nice?” interrupted Tony. The colonel chuckled before saying, “Be silent, Agent DiNozzo, before your voice decides it has had enough.”

“Mm…side effect, dehydration…”

“You really must rest.”

“Kinda hard to in this position, Colonel.”

“That I am aware of.”

“You’re weird.”

“And you are very trying.”

“Compliments again?”

“Not a compliment, Agent DiNozzo.”

“Really? Why don’t I believe that?”

Releasing an exaggerated sigh he urged, “You will drink some of this,” while pressing a bottle to his lips.

“Nah m’good.”

“It is not drugged, and you NEED to drink.”

“Stubborn too,” came the strained voice as he yet again forced the exhaustion back. Slowly he complied managing only a few brief sips before coughing violently. His head now propped against the colonel’s upper arm. The colonel immediately drew the bottle away as he demanded, “How long?”

“Hmm wha…what?” he asked while trying to lift his head.

“It is obvious that he has been severely restricting your water again. HOW LONG?”

“Not, not sure…”

“He will have to be dealt with very soon.”

Tony responded by once again attempting to lift his head too weary to make much of an effort. He was so tired, all he wanted to do was just lay down and go to sleep, just a few moments is all he’d need. Honest.

The colonel noticed both his struggle and how his body was beginning to subtly quiver from the intense strain the tangled weave of ropes and chains were forcing him to maintain indefinitely. Akeem had selected one of the cruelest stress positions yet. This one caused all sorts of suffering combined with intense strain on damned near every part of the body. He would have no choice but to remove the ropes and chain before it became far too much for his prisoner’s already hunger starved, sleep deprived, dehydrated, over-exhausted mind. The position combined with the obvious evidence of severe torture freshly marring his body on damned near every bit of visible skin, which for Agent DiNozzo was just about _everything_ as he was _still_ wearing the tattered remains of the outfit he had no doubt been captured in so long ago, would drive him to an early death if he wasn’t soon released from it and examined by the doctor. The human body could only take so much, and this position was sheer murder on anyone unfortunate enough to be secured in it for any length of time. It, combined with the severe abuse Akeem had opted to expose the man to in the course of a single week, could be the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back. Akeem had to be reeled in before his overwhelming drive for revenge ended in the death of one of their most valuable prisoners.

“How long has he kept you secured as you are, Agent DiNozzo?”

The sudden lifting of his head, followed by the harsh unrestrained keen escaping through tightly clenched lips spoke volumes of how long he had been exposed to his present torture. Drawing in a rather shaky breath that set the colonel’s nerves on edge Tony managed, “Answered…already.”

“You do not remember. Do you?”

“Honest…no.”

“Then it has been far too long and we MUST get you out of this position.”

“Right.”

“Do you know where this particular position originated, Agent DiNozzo?”

He turned his head slightly before managing a quiet, “Hmm, what? No. What…what’re we talking about again?”

Studying him closer he noted that nothing looked misaligned or dislocated, of course he knew that would only be a matter of time since the restraints were now obviously the ONLY THING keeping him in the horrendous position. Without them he would have collapsed days ago. Shaking his head and muttering a quiet, “I am amazed that there is no shoulder dislocation or hyper extension present,” to himself he was not surprised when his prisoner responded with a comment of his very own, “Small miracles, Colonel.”

“Indeed…”

“Think standing’ll be a big, big, problem.”

“Yes many when released from this particular position, or any number of variations on it, are unable to stand up. They end up having to walk in a half bent, half crouched position for many weeks.”

“Would suck.”

“Hmm.”

“Told you…sadistic bastard that one.”

“Yes. I am aware.”

“So what crazy bastard came up with it?”

“Hmm sadly the People’s Republic of China.”

“Figures.”

“It is most commonly used in their prisons…as a punishment.”

“Oh how nice of him to use me as his guinea pig.”

“Most are forced to either stand, crouch or sit with arms securely handcuffed either behind their backs or…”

“Between their legs…” he said while pulling upwards on the ones presently tethering him.

“Or shackled to the floor yes. I fear the version he has selected to use on you is said to be one of the most painful to endure.”

“Of course.”

“Your resilience, drive and stamina are most amazing. Many have surrendered after enduring much less.”

“Oh goody I’m a rarity.”

“Yes indeed, very rare and very beautiful.”

“Creepy asshole.”

As Tony violently wavered again only to choke back a half pain-laced scream as the chains held him fast the colonel insisted, “We MUST get you out of this position. I fear you will choose death over surrender any day.”

Extremely confused now he managed a half pain filled, “What? I’m real…tired…sleep…just need...few…”

“I know.”

“S’not gonna happen…you know…”

“What?”

“Won’t talk.”

“I know that too.”

“Won’t risk ‘em…can’t…”

“Which is part of the reason I am so fascinated by you, Agent DiNozzo. You are truly a very rare individual.”

Licking his dry lips he managed, “Hmm…say?”

“We need to get you out of this position, but I fear that it will be exceedingly painful.”

“Know…that…’ready, Colonel.”

The comment ended in a violently dry coughing spell that had him wincing and once again falling forward as he tried to regain his breath only to cry out in frustration as the chains tightened their merciless hold on his body refusing to yield beneath his weight. Outraged he managed a forceful, “Hate…fucking…things…” between brittle coughs that had the colonel assessing him much more intently than previously. He _needed_ to get the man to the doctor before Akeem’s stupidity got him killed. The reckless bastard!

As he continued to cough the colonel firmly braced him. Slowly the coughs subsided ending with Tony relying much too heavily on him for support. His eyes were closed now. His whole focus was no doubt centered on regaining full control of his breathing. Continuing to quietly listen he was relieved when the endeavor seemed successful. As he made another attempt at lifting his head the colonel quickly responded tightening his hold even further. His goal? To prevent any serious injuries from occurring as he contemplated how best to release him from his current position. 

As if reading his thoughts a very tired strained voice softly muttered, “You know…worry lot for captor, Colonel.”

“I will not let you go, Agent DiNozzo, especially not after everything I have done to acquire you.”

“Mmm…”

Sliding closer to his prisoner to further brace him he firmly drew him into his side, one arm wrapped securely about him while the other was actively retrieving his knife. Knowing the man in his arms was presently completely unaware of what was really occurring he chose to make a few statements he knew would garner some kind of a response and trigger a favorable distraction for him to conduct his work, “Mmm you are magnificent.”

“What?”

“You are truly magnificent.”

“You’re…highly…disturbing, Colonel.”

Managing to gain a secure hold on both his prisoner and his knife he continued, “Do you know that I once stalked a Bengal Tiger for _weeks_ across China just to capture him and add him to my collection?”

Caught off guard, confused and certain he misheard the colonel he managed, “You just…compare me to a…tiger, Colonel?”

The colonel softly chuckled while at the same time cutting one of the ropes securing his prisoner in place. As expected he appeared confused, focusing intently on him and seemingly unaware that one of his restraints was now severed. The colonel could only grin as Tony forced out a harsh, “Seriously…what the hell?”

“You are much like him,” the second rope was quickly cut. Now for the shackles and those he knew would draw his prisoner’s attention no matter how much he attempted to distract him. 

Tony’s eyebrows creased as he managed to force his head up to peer at the colonel saying, “You _did_ just compare me…to a…a tiger.”

“Yes indeed I did… You are wild and untamed much like him,” with that he popped the first lock on his wrist restraints causing Tony to drop painfully back onto the soles of his feet. The anguished cry was unfortunately unavoidable as the sudden release of tension was totally unexpected. Pushing his forehead firmer against the colonel’s hold and burying his eyes at the unexpected reverberation of agony now thrumming through his body he could only release a harsh choked back growl as the second restraint was popped open. The reaction was instantaneous as he rapidly dropped forward, caught completely off guard when he never even impacted the floor.

Soon he was eliciting soft moans of pain as feeling began to return to all of his limbs and blood began to rush rapidly through his veins. The pain crashed into him like an oncoming tsunami driving him to crumple into an uncoordinated heap, but since the colonel had him snugly pinned against him and firmly braced the impact was extremely soft and dampened considerably.

After several moments he managed to force out through clenched teeth, “Devious bastard.”

“You needed to get out of that position. I knew to do so would cause you immense pain and your reactions to that pain could have caused hyper extension or dislocation so…”

“You distracted…me…”

“And you are in so much anguish and so very exhausted that I was able to successfully do so. Had you been in far less pain and much more alert I highly doubt I would have been able to pull the ruse effectively off.”

“Wild…untamed…that your goal?”

“What?”

“To _tame me_?”

“No, Agent DiNozzo.”

“Then what?”

“To _keep_ you.”

“You’re crazy…”

“Perhaps but you are truly unique…and very, very rare.”

“I…what?” came the puzzled response, weariness even more prevalent than previously. His attention was straying dangerously. Pursing his lips the colonel repeated his earlier suggestion, “We must get you to the doctor.”

“Hmm good luck with that.”

“Shall I carry you?”

Tired eyes lifted up to his as Tony managed a tight, “Funny guy.”

“I am not laughing, Agent DiNozzo. I _will_ carry you if I must.”

“Have’ta lift me first.”

Eyes scanning his obviously too thin frame he settled on a simple, “I do not believe that will be a problem.”

He opened his mouth to argue that point but quickly changed it as he replied, “No suppose not.”

“Will you allow me to assist you?”

“Why does it bother you?”

The colonel knew he could opt to ignore the question instead he pressed a cool hand to his swollen bruised cheek and offered a simple, “You belong to me, and I take care of my own, Agent DiNozzo.”

Focusing a quizzical gaze on the bastard even now lightly brushing his thumb across his swollen cheek he wanted to lash out, to jerk away, to curse the bastard for daring to take such liberty, but he just hurt too damned much and was far too tired to care. Licking his chapped, split lips he managed, “Lucky, too tired…”

“Or?”

“Kick your ass.”

“Of that I have no doubt.”

Tony sniggered his eyelids drifting closed briefly head dropping forward before he once again forced it up and his eyes open attempting to shake the weariness away.

The colonel noticing how quickly he was fading settled on a simple, “You are struggling.”

“Tha’…obvious…”

“You may rest if you would like. I promise to not drop you along the way.”

“Really taking this…concern thing bit far…Colonel.”

“Perhaps but as I said I take care of my own, Agent DiNozzo, and you _are_ mine.”

“Hmm…not property…”

“No, of course not. You are so much _more_.”

“What ‘supposed to mean?”

“Hush, conserve your strength. We must get you to the doctor.”

Huffing in frustration he softly cursed as his eyelids once again slid shut, head lightly falling against the colonel’s chest. He was still being held? What…?

“You must seriously learn to quiet your mind, Agent DiNozzo. You think far too much.”

“What?”

A finger pressed vertically gently but firmly across his lips as the colonel continued, “Be silent for one moment…”

He opened his mouth to respond but settled on releasing another quiet huff. The colonel softly smiled before speaking again, “Now how are we making our way to the doctor, Agent DiNozzo? Do you believe that you are able to rise or shall I carry you?”

The finger vanished and Tony managed, “Can walk…”

“Can you now? After being secured in that crouching position for over a week?”

“’Keem’s a real dick.”

“Yes that he is, but that still does not answer my question. Will you be able to walk?”

“Not…helpless…”

“No that you most definitely are not, but presently you are extremely exhausted, in severe pain and rather weak…”

“Not weak…bastard.”

The finger reappeared firmly pressing across his lips again as the colonel shook his head before continuing, “No you, my dear Agent DiNozzo, are by far one of the strongest people I have ever known, but right now you are weak. Your energy is severely depleted.”

He grumbled. The colonel removed his finger then continued, “Now shall we try standing or…”

“I can stand!”

Sighing in frustration over the headstrong man in his arms he forced himself to calm before saying, “I know that you are quite capable of standing, but at the moment you are…”

“I’m fi…”

The finger returned as the colonel interrupted “Say fine and I shall make you prove it to me by rising on your own. I understand that you are fiercely independent but arguing with me when you are so very obviously struggling is foolish.”

“Fine help me up already.”

“I do not believe it will be quite that easy.”

Tony tried to sit up finding that he was too drained to manage it on his own, so he settled for, “Yeah, nope…not happening…so…new plan?”

“Well I could just throw you over my shoulder and carry you in a most undignified manner through the compound…”

Eyes snapped open coldly glaring up at the bastard. The colonel commented, “Ah yes there it is your anger. It may fuel you as well.”

“My… You’re an asshole, Colonel.”

“Well sitting in the center of this room is not getting us any closer to our goal now is it, Agent DiNozzo?”

Gritting his teeth he snarled, “You sure…not related to boss at all?”

“Why? Is he as stubborn as you?”

“Worse actually.”

“Then _you_? I find that very hard to believe. No. You are by far one of the most cantankerous bastards I have ever met.”

“Just brimming…compliments…today, aren’t ya Colonel?”

“More like stating truths that you seem unable to believe or accept.”

“What? I never…”

“Your boss has much to answer for as does your team, but that presently is not our main concern. Right now we must focus on getting you mobile.”

“Right. Get right on that…give a moment.”

Waiting for his prisoner to continue he gently grasped one of his wrists and turned the hand palm up, brow furrowing deeply as he took note of the obvious dark bruising covering it and knowing that his other palm was probably very similar. Pursing his lips and biting back his anger at the one who caused them he softly commented, “Your palms are bruised.”

“Pressure on them…causes bruising…”

“Yes but usually not quite this extreme. He had to of restrained you as such mere hours after I left the compound for you to sustain bruising of this nature”

“Said…don’t remember…”

“I know. I am just making an observation.”

“’Course ya’re…” As his words slurred and trailed off the colonel focused intently on him certain he had finally hit the end of his seemingly endless reserves of energy. His eyes were closed, and he was very still prompting the colonel to softly inquire, “Agent DiNozzo?”

Gently shaking him he repeated, “Agent DiNozzo?” when no response was forth coming he sighed and relaxed muttering, “Finally you stubborn ass bastard. Now to get you to the Doc.”

Slowly, cautiously he lowered and settled the now sleeping man on the floor before standing. He then bent down to carefully scoop him up, one arm under his knees the other bracing his back, caught momentarily off guard by how light he was. He was certain he had lost _even more_ weight since the last time he had to take him to the doctor. Akeem was becoming far too reckless indeed.

Shaking his head he drew the man in against him tensing as he shifted in his arms, head drifting gently against his chest. Looking down he half expected him to be looking right back but knew with the lack of sleep, excessive strain on his body and the combination of lack of water and food he would most likely be unaware of even the walk to the doctor.

Noting he was still very much asleep he breathed a sigh of relief muttering, “Now if you will just remain asleep a bit longer we will get you to the doctor,” of course he wouldn’t be surprised if the man awoke _in route_. 

Slowly, carefully he approached the door managing to open it with little difficulty entering the hall, firmly ignoring those he came across. They could stare and gape all they wanted. He would not lose the stubborn asshole in his arms, not after all his efforts to obtain him. No. He was _**his**_ , and he would not be letting him go. He would be damned if he would lose him only having just recently found him. He had searched far too long to find _the one_ , and now that he was certain he had he would not lose him.

Managing to make it up several levels he halted as said man suddenly muttered, “You carrying me?”

Huffing in frustration he softly urged, “Go back to sleep. We are almost there.”

“Can walk…y’know.”

“Yes I can see that.”

“Ass…”

_“REST.”_

He mumbled attempting to resist the order but shortly afterwards his eyes slid shut of their own accord, and he drifted asleep once more.

The colonel waited certain he was asleep again, but listened intently. When it appeared he was he spoke again, “You are by far one of the most obstinate people that I have ever met.”

Shaking his head he looked up to see one of the people in the hall gasping. Glowering at him he started his trek again snapping a harsh, “Back to work,” that to anyone who had heard would say was the least authoritative command he’d ever issued.

****

_Chatham, Virginia_

_Shadid Residence_

After much debate and discussion it was determined that Gibbs and McGee would approach Miss Shadid in casual clothes, in a standard vehicle, to question her further. They waited to see if anything surfaced in the office gossip or if anyone attempted to hack into the file Tony had left them. When nothing and no one seemed to be the wiser they decided it was safe enough to make their move.

Everyone knew that they were presently walking a very thin line. The risk to Tony’s informant, for lack of a better description, if anyone had discovered or even suspected that they had found her was extremely high. They all knew, based on what had been revealed, that she was a Sudanese spy turned traitor to an apparently extremely corrupt government. They were certain that she was most likely on the radar of several extremely _interested_ parties. Her location, no doubt, high priority to track down.

They were all trapped in a very delicate position unsure of how best to proceed. They needed to speak with her, but also risked revealing not only who she was but her location as well. If anyone found out…things could get very bad, very quickly, and all of Tony’s hard work to conceal and protect her would be tossed out the window. It was a dangerous move, but it was necessary. They had nothing on Tony or his location, and she just might be able to help them. The risk would be worth it if it lead to a viable clue that could potentially help them get him back.

As they compared the address with the one in the file they both determined this was the place. Parking across the road from the house they both prepared to approach unsure of where this would lead. Gibbs glanced up and down the street, and McGee confirmed no one had been tailing them so they should be safe. Of course both knew that was only an illusion for things were known to blow up at the smallest little provocation. They had to proceed with caution or risk losing a hell of a lot more than either was willing to sacrifice. 

Gibbs exchanged an intense look with McGee who nodded. Together they exited the vehicle, both slowly approaching the unfamiliar two story Italianate. McGee quietly commented, “Looks pricey. You really think Tony would…?”

“Yes, McGee. I do.”

“But where would he get this kind of money?”

“Hell FBI probably gave him the money. She _was_ sharing Intel with us, so they would probably want to insure that we wouldn’t lose her.”

“But she’s remained hidden all this time.”

“Yes. Thanks to _Tony_.”

“But boss…” his comment trailed off as the front door flew violently open and a petite brunette greeted them demanding, “Why are you here? Why have you come?”

Gibbs, recognizing the woman’s face from the false ID Tony had created, spoke first, “Oh I believe you know just why we’re here, Miss Shadid.”

“If I did then I would not be asking.”

“We share a…mutual acquaintance and he led us directly to you.”

“Did he now? And who might I ask is this _mutual acquaintance_ you speak of? For that matter just _who_ are you?”

McGee now irritated quickly intruded rudely spouting, “Stop avoiding the question and answer it, already.”

She gazed intensely at him simply stating “I was not aware you had asked a question Mister…?”

“Stop stalling and…”

“McGee!” hissed an unhappy Gibbs.

She turned to him saying, “Do Americans not get taught such simple things as courtesy and manners?”

Gibbs’ eye twitched his urge to smack McGee on the back of his head for being so abrupt overwhelming. Resisting temptation to do just that he calmly replied, “Look I apologize for coming here unannounced.” Drawing out his ID he held it up continuing, “I’m Agent Gibbs and this is Agent McGee…”

“Yes the very rude one,” she said while giving the younger agent a scathing look.

McGee opened his mouth but Gibbs held up a hand indicating he should remain silent. Huffing he complied. Gibbs continued softer now, “We’re from NCIS.”

“And how may I help NCIS today?”

“You’ve heard us?” interrupted McGee. 

Both turned to glare at him for the rude interruption. Fumbling he lowered his gaze and dropped back deciding he should probably let Gibbs handle things. As McGee took a step back Gibbs returned his attention to the woman and continued his answer, “Our mutual acquaintance gave us a lead to _you_. Left it in code for my forensics scientist to figure out. The clue…it led us directly here. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t trust us, so please…”

She hesitated briefly dropping her gaze before once again lifting it to focus intently on the older man offering, “No, you are quite right. He would not.”

“Then could you please help us? We need to find him, and we need your help to do so.”

Studying him intently she allowed a pregnant pause to follow the request before answering, “Yes. I will help you, but I will share what I know ONLY with _him_. I trust no other.”

McGee interrupted, “Even if he trusts us?”

Her glare returned as she snapped back, “If he did with this my identity, my story, my aid he would have told me about you not told me to disappear.”

“So he did tell you to disappear?” asked Gibbs in a less threatening tone, trying to keep her from turning hostile and slamming the door in their faces.

Turning to him her face softened as she continued, “Yes. If we ever missed a contact meeting I was to vanish. He said it was the only way to ensure my safety. Giving you that lead means he trusted the one who found it and her I do know, so if you want help I will need to speak with her.”

“Her?”

“You know of whom I speak.”

“Have you ever met her?”

“No. He told me her name, gave me a picture, and explained how to get help from her if needed.”

“Has she ever met you?”

“No and I do not believe she knows of me, but he told me how to get her help. He trusts her. He told me so himself. Knew if I needed it she would do so in a pinch, said she had means to do so but wanted to try to keep her in the dark…to protect her. He is very protective of her, of us, and I greatly appreciate how much of a help he has been. But I will not help you until I meet her.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t, but if you trust him you will also trust he led you to me for a good reason. The only ones who really know of me are him, an FBI agent and your Director, but even he does not know my real identity. It was insisted upon.”

“What Intel are you providing?”

“That I cannot and will not speak of. I have already told you the one I will trust with such information.”

“But he’s not here,” added McGee.

“You are right, so _find_ him.”

“We don’t know if…”

“He is. He is far too valuable to eliminate.”

“But he’s just one person…”

“A person with a lot of information, knowledge and connections…and one of the last existing links to me.”

“Why are you so important?”

“For reasons only a few know. Now if you will excuse me I must go pick up my daughter from school. When you are willing to bring her contact me. Until then I will say nothing further.”

McGee looked intently at his boss before turning and heading out the door. As Gibbs started for the door the woman halted him with a simple utterance of, “Agent Gibbs?”

Turning back to face her he watched, puzzled as she grabbed a piece of scrap paper and a pen, wrote something on the paper then approached him as she folded it. Once before him she simply leaned forward and slid the piece of paper into his breast pocket before turning away and saying, “I must go pick up my daughter. Perhaps we will meet again under better circumstances.”

Looking at her in confusion he nodded before heading out the door. Once beyond the threshold he glanced about before approaching the car, climbing in and pulling the note from his breast pocket. Opening it up he smiled at what was written there:

_You I have heard of too. Bring me Abby Scuito._

Knowing the reason she most likely knew of him was because Tony had made sure she did, he felt a bit better. It meant that Tony still trusted him as well.

McGee interrupted his thoughts muttering, “Well she was of little help.”

“No. Tony just taught her well.”

“What do we do?”

“Let her meet Abby.”

“But boss...”

“My call Tim. Without her we may never find him.”

“But it could be a trap…”

“No. Tony led us to her for a reason. He also taught her very well.”

“What do you mean, boss?”

Holding up the piece of paper he simply continued, “Trust me. He taught her _very_ well,” then he placed it back in his breast pocket without explaining to Tim what he had meant by the gesture or what was on the paper.

****

_Abyei, North Sudan_

The colonel entered the doctor’s office drawing the attention of the guard who could only stare in shock at what he was seeing. The colonel was _carrying_ one of the prisoners? What?

The doctor entered saying, “Ah what can I…” as he took note of the man in his visitor’s arms he abruptly demanded, “Bring him inside. I shall take one guess as to who caused _this_.”

“In _one week_ , Doctor.”

“He is reckless and his need for revenge on that bastard is blinding him.”

“Yes.”

“Did you not speak with him?”

“I did. I believe part of this was as a direct result.”

“You threatened him then.”

“Yes. We _need_ him. He is trying to kill him.”

The doctor approached and pressed a hand to the man’s forehead looking startled as he said, “He is warm.”

“Yes.”

“Antonio has never even gotten a cold since his arrival here. What was Akeem thinking?”

“I do not believe he was. The position I found him in was most unsavory.”

“Stress position then?”

“One of the cruelest, yes.”

Waving him into the nearest exam room he continued stating, “We do need to break him...”

“But NOT kill him, and he has still said NOTHING. I have seen many break under much less, but he is stubborn and remains firm. Said he will never speak and I am inclined to believe that he may not.”

“You are giving up?”

Approaching the examination table he gently lowered the unusually still, silent man onto it. Easing his arms out from under his body and retrieving a thin pillow which he quickly placed under his head for support. If the doctor had covers in the room he would no doubt be retrieving those as well, if for no other reason than to cover up the obvious indicators of emaciation. It was worrying indeed and seeing the evidence displayed so blatantly before them…

Jerking his head towards the doctor he answered his ridiculous question, “No, of course not, but if this has not broken him I am not sure what else will.”

“Everyone has their limits. You just have not found his yet.”

“He was very much conscious and coherent when I visited him! He has been secured in that stress position for damned near a week. He is beyond exhausted, weak and severely malnourished. He also has noticeable evidence of several severe beatings upon every visible inch of skin YET he was able to remain lucid, aware until only a short while ago.”

“He is definitely unique. I will give him that.”

“I do not know where he gets his perseverance or energy. He is one of the most stubborn men I have ever met.”

“Yes he is that.”

Turning his focus to examining the young man now resting on his exam table he noted his breathing was normal, even and deep. His heart rate slow and steady, but he lacked any real muscle mass or fat reserves. His skin appeared too thin and was exceedingly dry. His lips were both cracked and bleeding. There were noticeable bags under each eye and his arms and legs were far too slim for a man of his stature. Apparently Akeem was restricting his water and food much more severely than previously. He muttered prompting the colonel to inquire, “What is it?”

“I believe he has not visited young Antonio since he left him in that room, except perhaps to force water into him to maintain his life. He has lost more necessary weight and appears severely dehydrated. I do not feel the need to express the dangers that these two factors present. He is also extremely exhausted, as he has never slept this deeply in my presence.”

“He has not?”

“No. He does not trust me, nor ever will. For that matter, he does not even trust you. He is also surrounded by the enemy, in _our_ territory, yet he is deeply asleep. That tells me that he has been denied rest for many days. He must be permitted to do so or he could very well lose his mind, as studies have proven those who go beyond three days without adequate rest tend to show marked increase in paranoia and delusions. Not to mention that lack of healing rest causes the body to begin attacking itself. If he had gone much longer without adequate sleep, in his present condition, I fear we might have possibly lost him. This cannot be allowed to happen again. It is too much of a risk and if you desire to keep him alive, as our government seems determined to, than this _must not_ re-occur, Colonel Abdoo.”

He snarled hissing, “I told you to address me as either Colonel or Gadi, NOT by _that_ name.”

“It is your surname, no?”

“You know how much I despise the one who spawned me, my friend. I suggest you restrict its usage, especially since I perceive you as a friend.”

The colonel fell silent as his gaze once again settled on the deeply asleep man before them prompting the doctor to change topics as he gently warned, “You are doing it again.”

“What?” The colonel’s eyes briefly flashed up to him before once again settling on Antonio. 

Nodding in quiet affirmation, the doctor continued, “He fascinates you? Intrigues you?”

The muscle in his jaw twitched before he replied with a simple declaration of, “He is interesting.”

“He will bring about your death.”

“Nah.”

_Oh yes he most certainly will._

He knew what his friend desired, knew what he was willing to risk, and knew that one day he would find himself pitted against a man that could truly be the end of him. Ever since meeting Antonio he was certain that his friend’s time was coming. Antonio would, no doubt, be his undoing. The final addition to his, dare he say _collection_ , would be the final nail in his coffin as he chose one who was, no doubt, his ultimate rival. 

Pushing those thoughts aside he firmly stated, “He _was_ a cop _is_ a federal agent. He will not be easy to control.”

“Who says I want to control him?”

“You want to contain him, hold onto him, _cage_ him…is that not the same thing?”

“He is not like the others.”

“No and that is why he intrigues you. You are fascinated by him, enamored with him. Dangerous emotions, my friend, very dangerous.”

“This from one who derives perverse pleasure by crudely assaulting him on just about every visit.”

“Not in some time, no. It would kill him…and how would you know?”

“Because he is also _your_ type, my friend.”

“Oh he is indeed, but he has not been in good health for some time now.”

“So what do you do to…quench the urge?”

The doctor glared at him before gently brushing a lock of hair off the forehead of the deeply sleeping man now lying on his table quietly answering, “Petting mostly. He is a very sensual creature.”

“Yes. I have noticed.”

“If he is your _ultimate_ then why do you permit me…?”

“Because our job is to break him and…”

“And it is another of your _tests_ to see if he will cave or continue to resist. This whole time you have been testing him, have you not?”

“Yes.”

“And…?”

“And he is truly magnificent. I am certain that he is the one.”

“So when will the testing cease?”

“I have not yet decided.”

“Did you test the others?”

“Not as intensely no. They all sadly caved much, much quicker. Very disappointing. He has outlasted them all.”

“And still you continue to test him.”

“Not so much anymore, no.”

“Which explains why his present condition upsets you so very much. You have made your decision, have you not?”

“He is **mine**.”

“So you have. You will be wanting to move him soon. Is that why you have been gone so often?”

“HE belongs to me. I have told Akeem as much.”

“Hmm you are diverting the conversation, so you must not want to discuss it. Very well then we will save the discussion for another time.”

“There will not be another time.”

“Perhaps. Now as for Akeem? His desire to gain revenge on Antonio’s boss will continue to grow in him festering, spreading like a cancer. You know this already. He will not stop until he succeeds, and presently Antonio IS his only avenue to gaining it. Therefore, he will do much worse to him before he is done, and he will not stop until he feels vindicated. This WILL happen again unless you put a stop to it.”

“I will have to leave again…”

“Yes I know and so does Akeem. He will wait to continue his open vendetta against his boss. Expect to find Antonio in a similar state or far worse when that occurs.”

“He is already exhausted, malnourished, dehydrated and severely battered. He will not be able to take much more.”

“Are you certain?”

“He is strong-willed but the human body can only take so much.”

“Yes that is true, but with me he will survive much longer than others treated similarly.”

The colonel’s gaze settled firmly on his prisoner who hadn’t moved at all during their entire discussion. The sleep deprivation and weakness having finally caught up to him. Any who had been exposed to such a lengthy amount of time without proper sleep would have collapsed much sooner he was certain, but he had learned early on that one Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo Junior was about as stubborn as they came. Shaking his head he simply stated, “Of that I have no doubt.”

Silence fell between them before the colonel continued, “He is a prime source of Intel.”

“Yes if we can BREAK him.”

“We cannot afford to lose him to a vendetta. The Intel he holds is far too valuable.”

“And if he is truly the one you have been searching for you will not so easily yield him…to _anyone_.”

“If it would keep him alive I would consider alternatives.”

“Temporarily of course.”

“Yes, of course. If I must release him to save him I will.”

“And you would one day return to retrieve him.”

“Yes.”

“Preferably when he is far stronger than at present.”

“Indeed.”

“Your interest in him is quite noticeable, Colonel. You must take more precaution for your enemies are many and if you truly desire to hold onto him they must not discover what he could potentially become to you.”

He offered no denial or confirmation to the statement, instead silence fell between them stretching for several brief moments before the doctor quietly stated, “You want the Intel he holds, but you also want _him_. It is quite the quandary you put yourself in, my friend.”

“I was brought in to break him.”

“Yes you were, just as you predicted, but that is something you do not want to do. You _like_ him just the way he is. You _want_ him just the way he is. The question is which do you want more? Him? Or the information he carries?”

Instead of offering a response he chose to continue studying the man presently resting aware that his friend had a distinct point, one he chose to deny. He also knew that Akeem was far from done with his little vendetta, and had every intention of making him suffer for his boss’ crimes. The combination was dangerous. The threat high. Akeem was no longer easily swayed by threats or punishments. He was too far gone, too far down the path of vengeance. He was out for blood and a man that far gone would not be easily wrangled. He would have to make some decisions and soon. 

****

_Chatham, Virginia_

_One Week Later…_

As a knock sounded on her door she opened it after checking through the peep hole to see who it was. As she saw Agent Gibbs she smiled her attention immediately going to his left as she recognized Abby Scuito from Tony’s description and picture. Her smile grew warmer. Extending her hand to take hers she greeted, “It is a pleasure to finally meet you Miss Scuito. Tony has spoken very highly of you.”

“He has?”

“Yes. He trusts you very much. I wanted to meet you for the longest time, but he said I shouldn’t initiate contact unless either your Agent Gibbs found me or I needed your help again.”

“Again? That’s right you’re one I helped Tony with…”

“Yes and I owe you as well as him for saving both my daughter and I. Thank you for risking so much to help us. I have been wanting to tell you that for some time.”

She hugged the young woman before inquiring, “Is it just the two of you?”

“Yes. I sensed you didn’t really like or trust Agent McGee…”

“And I am truly sorry for that, Agent Gibbs. He was very rude, and Tony never spoke of him. He only informed me of the two of you. Come in. I have tea on if either of you are interested.”

Trying not to let the information regarding McGee bother him he offered a polite, “Thank you,” aware that if Tony had never mentioned his younger partner than at some point Tony had lost trust and faith in him. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed _that_ either. Had he been that ignorant and lax with his team that he hadn’t even noticed his SFA no longer trusted either junior agent to cover his back?

Shifting anxiously he forced his thoughts to quiet focusing his complete attention on the woman before him who was questioning, “Am I to assume that you have spoken with Director Vance and Agent Fornell recently?”

“Yes.”

“So you have some idea of what I am able to reveal to you.”

“Yes.”

“Good but what I have to tell you both may be most unsettling I fear.”

Gibbs urged Abby to enter before him and followed behind her as he asked, “Will it help us find Tony?”

“It may. While I do not know exactly where they would be holding him I know of several locations that could be possibilities. It is partly my fault that they went after him.”

“Why do you say that?” inquired Abby.

“Because it was I who shared sensitive Intel with him. I had some suspicions and his research revealed they were much more than that.”

“I know he apparently got involved in something that could cause some serious backlash.”

“Yes.”

“So what can you tell me? Us?”

Drawing in a deep calming breath she answered, “Our last meeting involved Sudan…Darfur to be exact. We spoke of the reported acts of genocide presently occurring there. I told him my suspicions, and he conducted research. I fear someone may have found out just what he was researching and targeted him because of it.”

“What makes you say that?”

“This whole thing ties back to that town and the events going on in Sudan. If he was taken by the ones I believe he was then he is most likely being kept in a Sudanese military base somewhere near Darfur. It is a very bad place for him to be holding the knowledge that he has. If they discover what he knows or his link to me they _will_ kill him, Agent Gibbs.”

“I was told the information he gathered has the potential to strain our relations with China and Russia, is that true?”

“Yes. They both have a vested interest in Sudan. China relies on them for oil and provides Sudan’s military with weapons while Russia is Sudan’s strongest investment partner and political ally in Europe.”

Nodding he continued, “So where do you think he’s being held?”

“There are many places, but the most likely would be in Darfur, Kordofan or the Blue Nile.”

“Where all the conflict is.”

“Yes. I would say he is nearest to Darfur.”

“Why there?”

“With the amount of unrest and repeated attacks both Darfur and the Blue Nile would presently be very unstable. They would want to keep him close to an unstable area, but not directly in one.”

“Why not?”

“He is not only their prisoner. He is an enemy. If he is found by the wrong people they will kill him for being who he is just to make a point.”

“So where else could we look?”

“The Nuba Mountains or somewhere near the disputed town of Abyei. They are both in South Kordofan and bordered by Darfur, the Blue Nile and South Sudan. There are bases in both locations and considering they are almost central to the unrest he is most likely being held in one of them.”

“Really?”

“Yes. They like to keep high priority prisoners well-hidden and in the most difficult places to breach. He will no doubt be in one of them surrounded by the Sudanese military. To get him out of there, Agent Gibbs, will be no small feat.”

“Why are you trying to help him? Why would you even risk it?”

“Because I owe Agent DiNozzo for saving my life and that of my daughters’. He is a good man, an honest man and does not deserve to suffer.”

“Can you tell me what he actually discovered?”

“Things that were not meant to be known. Things that were and are being covered up by the acts of violence occurring there daily.”

“How do you fit into all of this?”

“I am afraid that is all I am willing to tell you. To speak of more is dangerous. I have told you where to search. It is up to you to get him out.”

He wanted to ask her more, to inquire further but held back aware that if he did he could spook her. Nodding he thanked her for her help and the tea. Abby, who had mainly listened, softly inquired, “Can you tell us _anything_ about how you fit into this?”

The woman sighed obviously caught in indecision before quietly answering, “There is little I can reveal. It is far too dangerous, but…”

“But?”

“I suppose telling you how I came in contact with your Agent DiNozzo would not be an issue.”

Abby nodded and waited after several moments she hesitantly answered, “I fled Sudan with a large group of refugees. They were searching for me. I was to be captured alive and thoroughly questioned. I was trained as a spy. My job was to get close to American service men, convince them I was in love with them. I was ordered to seduce them, trained in it. My orders were simple use seduction in order to gain information. When I became pregnant I became a liability…until they discovered how quickly one would open up to a pregnant female. I did not agree with it but had little choice in the matter. I worked closely with the government while secretly searching for a way out of it, a way to gain my freedom. One of the men I was to…coerce was an undercover NCIS agent, also a good friend of Agent DiNozzo’s. He called Tony, requested him, requested he use his contacts and clearances to get me out of Chad and bring me here. I agreed to share Intel and for that he was able to arrange a T Visa for me. While I am not, nor ever was a victim of human trafficking it was the only way that Tony could get us both out and into the US. It took them three years to do so.”

“Them?

“Tony and his friend.”

“This friend have a name?”

“Yes and he is also missing, has been for much longer than Tony. I fear he was captured, tortured then killed. I believe he is how they were able to get Tony’s identity. Tony was his link to the United States, and very few knew of the existence of that connection. When it was no doubt discovered the need to capture Tony alive became a top priority. His position in your NCIS made him a rare prize as he has even higher clearance and holds an even higher position in your agency than his friend did. They’re goal would be to try to turn him…”

“And if that failed?”

“They would resort to whatever means necessary to gain Intel from him.”

“Whatever means?”

“His life would be one of imprisonment, captivity and constant abuse. They would want to keep him alive. To them he is a valuable intelligence asset. They would do whatever it took to ensure he remains alive for as long as they need.”

“As long as they need?”

“I fear in his case that would be several years. He would be kept always in chains, under constant guard, tortured daily and closely monitored. They know that everyone will eventually break and a lengthy captivity ensures that. The longer the captivity the more desperate and depressed a victim will become. The less they will fight. The quicker they will forget why they were resisting in the first place. Eventually most will either die willingly or reveal that which they had tried so hard to conceal. Everyone has a limit. Some just take longer than others to shatter. All they need to do is figure out where to exert the most pressure. It is another reason why I am so certain he is being held either on or near a military base. The only way to hold onto such a prize indefinitely would be to place him in a fortress where few could easily gain access to him.”

Swallowing past the lump actively forming in his throat Gibbs forced out a terse, “What…”only to be cut off by a vehement, “No. I will tell you no more. I have provided more than I had intended already.”

Abby spoke then hugging the woman as she thanked her for all of her help and her willingness to tell them what she knew. Gibbs thanked her as well before approaching the door to follow Abby his mind trying to file away what she had just revealed. As they were exiting the house she suddenly called out, “Agent Gibbs?”

Halting he turned around to look at her expectantly. After several moments she continued, “Use the air strikes as cover.”

Confused he asked, “What?”

“Use the air strikes _to get him **out**_.”

“I don’t…”

“Trust me when the time comes you _will_ understand.”

“Okay uh thank you.”

As he exited the house Abby questioned, “What was that about?”

Pinning Abby with a puzzling expression he answered, “I’m not quite sure, but I think it will be important.”

“Will be?”

“When we rescue him, Abs.”

Seeing her suddenly ring her hands he stopped, facing her he gently grasped her smaller hands in his asserting, “We _will_ rescue him, Abby.”

“We…”

“WILL.”

Looking at him she felt herself calm and inclined her head. They would find him. She was certain they would. Now they were down to a matter of _when_.

**

_NCIS Headquarters – MTAC_

After he and Abby returned from visiting Meera Shadid he headed up to inform Vance of what they had discovered. His secretary told him that he was in MTAC with Agent Fornell. Thanking her he quickly made his way there and entered noting the overview of Sudan now displayed on the screens. 

Approaching he greeted both men and waited for them to finish their discussion. Once done Vance turned to him asking, “Anything?”

Drawing in a calming breath he replied, “Miss Shadid is the…friend that Tony was working with when he disappeared. She gave us a few ideas of where to start looking and emphasized two main locations to concentrate our focus on.”

Noting the tension not only in Gibbs’ face but his body Fornell questioned, “Why do you seem so tense, Jethro? If she gave us a few locations then…”

“They’re both in the Darfur region, damned near in the center of all the unrest.”

Vance huffed as he muttered, “This complicates things.”

“You ain’t kidding, Leon. If DiNozzo’s in the middle of that whole fiasco…”

“Then getting him out could be damned near impossible.”

Gibbs, angered by that statement, snapped “We’re not giving up, sir!”

“No, no of course not, Agent Gibbs, but this has just become a whole lot more complicated.”

“Like it’s not complicated enough? I mean _really_? Treason, genocide, a war…it’s a political shit storm, Leon, and DiNozzo’s somehow managed to get himself inserted right in the damned crux of it all.”

“Not his fault.”

“No, no it isn’t, so what do we do about it?”

“See what we can find out. Look into any active bases on or near the locations his friend specified.”

Nodding he continued, “She said he was important, that they wouldn’t want to lose him, that they’d surround him most likely with a strong military force…suggested he was either being held in an area near a military base or directly on one…”

Fornell cut in, “I vote for on one.”

Both of them jerked their heads towards the older man questions in their eyes. Shrugging his shoulders he continued, “If they know anything about him then they know who he works for and how obstinate that someone can be when on the war path. They also have someone, or several someone’s, on the inside who don’t want him found…”

“And let’s not forget an enemy who wants revenge on you and sees DiNozzo as a direct path to gaining it.”

Fornell added, “The last thing that he or they would want is to lose him.”

Gibbs sighed as he quietly informed, “She said that they’d want to keep him alive, that he was a very valuable asset, a highly sought after political prisoner. They won’t easily yield him.”

“Which means I’m most likely right, and he’s being held on one of those military bases.”

While Gibbs and Fornell were talking Vance had one of the technicians bring up satellite imagery of Darfur and the surrounding areas. When the two fell silent he commented, “Based on the satellite imagery we have two very active bases in or near Darfur…one in the…”

“Nuba Mountains and one in Abyei just like she said,” interrupted Gibbs eyes settling on first one base then the other. Tony was in one of those two bases he was certain. He felt it in his gut. The only thing he didn’t feel certain about was _which one_.

“And it looks like…” The technician interrupted continuing, “They were both relatively quiet months before Agent DiNozzo’s disappearance. Afterwards, however…” He trailed off fingers flying across the keyboard before he nodded saying, “Yeah, yeah there appears to be a noticeable increase in activity on both bases…and the activity has been vastly increasing ever since.”

“Thank you, Simon.”

“Any time, sir.”

Turning back towards the other two men in the room Gibbs said, “Well that would make sense. As the situation in Darfur branched out to encompass South Kordofan and the Blue Nile they would naturally pull in more military in an attempt to hold and control the area. I mean even we’ve seen, just in the last couple of months, how much the unrest has been rapidly spreading across all three areas pushing across neighboring borders into Chad, CAR and South Sudan.”

“Both are hot zones under constant heavy fire. If he’s in one of those areas as his girl suggests…”

“He is.”

Both looked at Gibbs but neither questioned his certainty as Fornell sadly pointed out, “Then we’ll only get one shot at this.”

Agreeing Vance continued, “We NEED to be sure of which base he’s being held in or nearest to before we make our move.”

“So we have to make a choice,” said a rather sullen Gibbs.

“Yes…and hope, pray that we make the right one.” Almost as an afterthought Vance inquired, “Don’t suppose that gut is telling you which one, Agent Gibbs?”

The look he gave was a definite no. Fornell interceded wanting to reinsert hope into the equation with a simple offering of, “We still have one other avenue we’ve yet to explore…”

“Samina Khalil,” answered Leon without hesitation.

“I think it’s far passed time we have a little chat with her.”

All three men agreed staring at the monitors before them. The main camera was still affixed on the country of Sudan while two others were now firmly focused on their two prominent areas of interest: bases in the Nuba Mountains near Rashad and in Abyei near Na’am. One of those two bases held their missing agent. The million dollar question now was simply which one?


	16. The Grand Delusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay as I mentioned in the previous chapter notes this is a rather lengthy part. This chapter covers _a lot_ of information and a lot takes place within it. This is, as some would say, the "mid-point". I hope you enjoy it, and thanks for all your wonderful feedback. It is greatly appreciated! :) 
> 
> Now onto the next part of the story. Enjoy! :)

_NCIS Headquarters_

_Finally!_ They finally started figuring it all out. Took them long enough. For the premiere investigative team of DC the MCRT sure was pathetic, an absolutely pathetic _disappointment_. Snag their SFA and they were lost, their foundation ripped out leaving them slowly crumbling into ruin. Her brother had thought for sure that Abigail Scuito was the lynch pin and ONLY her, but with the removal of one Anthony DiNozzo Junior and the subsequent fall out of _that_ particular loss one could now easily see that _he_ was just as vital as _she_ was. She had told her brother as much, but he had been so certain…that is until she started giving him all those lovely, juicy reports of how delightfully Gibbs and his team was imploding, tearing apart at the seams. It was such a shame that dear, sweet Anthony had to be the sacrificial lamb for Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He was quite a beautiful and unique man, even she wasn’t fool enough to deny _that_. What a rotten shame that he was the stated price for both their revenge and their guaranteed protection. Ah well. As the old adage goes: all is fair in love and war, and they had most definitely declared war!

When Director Vance and FBI Agent Fornell entered her work area she merely smiled and waved before simply tossing out, “Here to arrest me? Oh do be gentle boys. I promise not to resist, after all we do have a party to attend, and I _am_ the guest of honor.”

The look they exchanged before escorting her to interrogation had her laughing as well. If only they realized what their blindness had caused. Oh the web of destruction that was about to be unleashed… Well needless to say she could not wait to get started. 

As she was escorted into Interrogation Room I she was polite and cordial thanking both men for their assistance. Now she just had to wait for the fun to begin, of course she just _had_ to indulge herself a little before the big showdown began. After all little Miss Mossad was most likely on the other side of that glass and any jab she could direct her way would be totally worth all the effort it had taken to be her best and closest confident. Argh talk about a rough few years to be a friend to that self-absorbed _bitch_.

She smiled brightly slinking provocatively to the empty chair before casually sitting down directly across from the two way mirror. She then brought two perfectly manicured hands together to rest her chin atop and released an exaggerated sigh as if bored. Focusing intently on the two-way mirror she winked, a sultry smile spreading across ruby red lips.

**

_NCIS Headquarters – Interrogation Room 1_

Watching idly through the two way mirror she tensed upon seeing her “friend”, now sneering at the word, enter the interrogation room before taking a seat. She looked so damned smug and arrogant. How had she not seen behind the bitch’s icy mask? How had she missed the signs, the indicators that she was not who she claimed to be? Oh she had suspected it numerous times, of course, through the years and even conducted research on her, especially after McGee encouraged her to. She had noticed the subtle things she would say, odd behaviors she had exhibited that clashed with what she thought she knew about her, the inconsistencies in some of the things she talked about, but she had chosen to ignore them all. She had been determined to accept her friendship, had blamed her suspicions on her upbringing and her own paranoia. She had allowed the woman to burrow beneath her shields. Had accepted her at face value never bothering to dig deeper. Her father would be so ashamed of her if he knew. He had trained her to be ruthless and suspicious of _everyone_ and she had failed to notice there was a spy in the midst of her new home, of her new family. She had been so stupid and foolish, and hated herself for becoming so susceptible, so _weak_.

She was good, duplicitous in her nature and she, like a fool, had fallen for it, for an act. Why? Why had she fallen for it so swiftly, so completely? Of course she already knew the answer, she was just too ashamed and embarrassed to admit it. She had _needed_ someone. She had felt like an outcast, a third wheel. She had been so excited to join a team that had a reputation for being _good_ at what they did. She wanted to learn, to become an asset, but when she arrived only to be told, or asked quite bluntly “does Gibbs know about this?” it had made her feel truly foolish…of course he knew. Jen wouldn’t have just tossed her onto his team without even consulting him would she? Sadly she quickly found out that was _exactly_ what had occurred. She had forcefully placed her, a stranger and a foreign agent, onto Agent Gibbs’ team and then bailed on her. Leaving her to figure out how to fit in, how to work with a group of people who had obviously wanted _nothing_ to do with her. Initially the only team member to put any kind of effort into at least _attempting_ to work with her, though she was certain he had detested her at the time, was one Anthony DiNozzo Junior. Gibbs had all but ignored her, relegating her to “a perpetual annoyance’’ and McGee? Well McGee wasn’t very friendly either. And as for _Jenny_? Jenny had simply told Gibbs that she was on his team, there was nothing he could do about it and then just…walked away. Not a very good approach literally foisting someone onto a team that obviously did not want or need her around.

She had wanted to learn from the best. She had wanted to at least be accepted on the team. She knew it would be a challenge, after all they had just recently lost a member and her half-brother was responsible for that devastating loss. She had expected there to be some turmoil and some major adjustments at first, but what she got was ostracized and treated like a burden, a tolerable inconvenience. It was extremely difficult to deal with, much harder than she had ever expected. After all she was trained to keep all emotions hidden, wasn’t she? She was supposed to be a heartless, soulless killer not some emotionally needy woman who just wanted desperately to _belong somewhere_. When she was greeted with less than favorable attitudes…on everyone’s parts she had floundered, her base firmly shaken and she had _needed_ a friend. She had needed someone to accept her, to be happy to see her, who wanted to work with her. Magically Samina Khalil slid right in and introduced herself preying on the fact that they had been friends in Israel and bringing her that feeling of wanting to be needed, of wanting to be accepted, of wanting a friendly person around to the forefront. Like a fool she bought into it and now here they stood watching the devious woman who no doubt knew _exactly_ where her partner was being held…and had pretended to know nothing! She had betrayed him, and she deserved to die!

“She’s toying with you. Don’t let her.”

Startled out of her reverie by that comment she turned abruptly on the one who had said it demanding, “WHAT MCGEE?”

McGee watched his partner as she stared down the woman in interrogation before her agitated pacing began. He could feel the anger, the rage and the hate roiling off of her in waves and was momentarily caught off guard by the sheer intensity of it. Aware of how she was no doubt feeling, sensing her aggravation, he softly said her name. He had flinched at her initial snarled response but wouldn’t be assuaged so he repeated his previous suggestion just as calmly as the first time, “She’s toying with you. Don’t let her.”

“She… She…”

“Ziva, you need to relax.”

“I am calm, McGee.”

“You want to rip her throat out.”

“YES!”

“We need her.”

“Why? She will only tell lies.”

“She could lead us to Tony.”

“She is a devious, backstabbing, murderess bitch, McGee.”

“Woah. Ziva, maybe you should sit this one…”

“I want her to suffer.”

“You need to calm down…”

The door opening and closing on the other side of the glass drew their attention as much as the seductive drawl of, “Hello, Agent Gibbs. You kept me waiting.” Forming a perfect little pout with painted lips she whined, “And I do not like to wait.”

Gibbs snapped, “Is this some kind of a joke to you?”

“Not at all. Come. Sit. Talk to me.”

“Do you have any idea why you’re here?”

Smiling wickedly she teasingly answered, “I assume it has something to do with our luscious missing agent.” Winking again at the glass she purred, “I like to call him Mister Passionate. Hmm, what a man.”

Ziva was livid and headed for the door. McGee was in route to intercept seeing Gibbs turn to give him a pointed look. Doubling his effort he reached out to grab her arm when the door opened and in stepped Director Vance, deliberately blocking her attempt to leave before saying, “Is there a problem, Agent David?”

She backed down immediately answering, “No. No sir.”

“If you can’t handle this I will make you sit this one out,” he stated firmly eyes pinning her in place.

She glowered right back on the verge of defying him but hesitant as she knew that he would dismiss her, so drawing in a tense breath in an attempt to calm herself she momentarily closed her eyes before opening them and answering, “I will be fine. She just makes me so…”

“Angry?”

“Yes!”

“She played us all. Probably has known his location since the beginning and deliberately withheld it. I want her on Doctor Mallard’s table, but we need to interrogate her first. If she truly did willfully betray one of our own there will be no mercy from ANY of us, Agent David.”

“Understood, sir.”

Tim looked around and asked, “Uh, Director where’s Agent Fornell?”

The door reopened admitting him and one of his agents as the Director addressed, “Not going in?”

“He requested to go solo for now.”

Arching a brow he continued, “Think he can handle this?”

“We’re about to find out.”

Their attention was drawn back to the interrogation where Samina was being just a bit too _overly accommodating_ offering a simple statement of, “He got too close.”

Controlling his own anger and rage Gibbs settled on pursuing that little statement with a leading one of his own, “He had to be neutralized.”

Her lips twitched, eyes gliding up to his as she answered pointedly, “He is tenacious and by far more intelligent than any of you have stated.”

“He figured out your real identity.”

She assessed him deciding just how far she wanted to push him, how much she wanted to reveal, “We had to eliminate the problem.”

“So what? You _sold_ him?”

“I obtained him, or rather my partner did, for _another_ interested party.”

“Who was this interested party?”

“Someone you will never find.”

“What’s his interest in my agent?”

“More than just the Intel he carries I am certain.”

“What?”

“His interest is far more personal, I believe.”

“What do you mean?”

“Agent Gibbs, there are people you learn about. People you get to know. _He_ is most definitely not one of them. You do not ask, and you do not dare speak about what you know.”

“What?”

“You stay out of his business and out of his way or there are consequences. Some people you just do not tempt.”

What the hell was she talking about? Was there another player? Someone they had no knowledge of or was she just cryptically referring to her government? Shaking his head he continued, “Who? Why?”

“Because he will kill you if you get too close. He is like a spider collecting stray insects that land in his web. _He_ is the spider. The rest of us are those poor unfortunates lying motionless beneath.”

“What do you think he wants?”

“I do not know nor do I care or intend to find out. All I know is that it cannot be good.”

“And you let him be taken?”

“I merely did a service.”

“A service? You set up a _federal agent_ for abduction!”

Shrugging her shoulders casually she continued, “I did what I had to do to protect my own. Something you seem to fail at repeatedly, Agent Gibbs.”

“Who are you protecting?”

She peered at him demurely a coltish smile alighting her lips as she simply answered, “My family, Agent Gibbs. You see he is all I have left in this world thanks to you, so I HAD to protect him. I HAD to ensure he would remain safe. Agent DiNozzo was just unfortunate enough to be the cost of that protection.”

“You set him up.”

“I just made a call and that is all.”

“You gave away his location.”

“No. I just told someone a time. They already knew the rest.”

“You told them when he left headquarters.”

“As I have stated already all I did was merely give someone a time. They did the rest.”

**

McGee continued to observe shocked at seeing this devious side to a woman who had seemed so nice and polite before. He tensed nodding in agreement when Fornell snapped, “What a cold bitch.”

Vance replied, “She was protecting her own.”

“By selling out one of OUR own.”

“We suspected that already, Fornell.”

“Suspected yes but to actually hear it? To actually willingly do that to someone? She has to be…”

Ziva cut in, “A cold-hearted bitch who must die.”

Tim stepped in with, “Woah, Ziva, calm down.”

“I am calm, McGee, but she deserves to die.”

“Relax…”

“Relax? She SOLD him like one would sell property! He does not deserve that! She needs to die!”

“Ziva, calm down. I agree she needs to pay but…”

“She is a traitor, McGee. Do not dare defend her to me!”

“I’m not. I’m just trying to…”

“I am CALM!”

Vance and Fornell shared a look aware and relieved to see the team actually did seem to care for their missing teammate despite how horribly they had treated him prior.

Vance hated to admit it but Tony’s absence, subsequent recovery and healing may be just what’s needed to fix the severe damage to the team. Perhaps something good could be gained from horrible circumstances after all. What a shame that it had to be so extreme to make them take notice and acknowledge the wrongs they had committed against him. It would NEVER get this bad again. He wouldn’t allow it to.

Another intense look was exchanged between he and Fornell before both returned their attention to the ongoing interrogation in the next room. Both aware that Gibbs was getting closer and closer to losing a grip on his own temper, especially when he snapped, “YOU SET HIM UP!”

Okay perhaps Fornell _should have_ gone into the room with him. After all it was his case and did fall under FBI jurisdiction. He didn’t have to agree to permit Gibbs to enter that room alone... Exchanging another look with the older man the two nodded sharing a silent agreement that if things got any worse than Fornell _would_ be entering that room to forestall it.

Aware of the tension now emanating in and out of both rooms, he and Fornell noticeably winced at their suspect’s next cruel jab, “Turnabout is fair play. You took our family, now we are simply returning the favor.”

Amazingly enough Gibbs seemed to remain in control, his anger simmering just beneath the surface ready to be unleashed at a moment’s notice. Pinning her with a cold harsh glare he simply asked, “What do you have against him?”

“Nothing. I have _nothing_ against him. He was simply a means to an end…for us that is. We just took full advantage of the situation we were given. It is not our fault that you happen to care, rather deeply, for the lovely Agent DiNozzo. Now is it?”

Jumping up he snarled, “You…”

Only to be abruptly cut off by her smug smirk as she flippantly added, “Tell you what. Since he **is** your involuntary lamb and has already suffered greatly because of _your_ crimes how about I give you an option you never deemed worthy of us?”

“What?”

“I am giving you a _crumb_ , Agent Gibbs, which is far more than you truly deserve.”

“A crumb…”

“It is actually quite simple: you want answers, Agent Gibbs, so I will offer you a clue…”

“You’re…”

“Grantsville, Maryland.”

Caught off guard by the sudden change in direction he latched onto the words immediately inquiring, “Grantsville, Maryland?”

Leaning forward she offered a flirty smile as she quietly purred, “It is a rather small community. Not much there really, just a whole bunch of forest, land and a…how shall I say it? Oh yes, a simple foot in the right direction.”

Mentally cursing he snarled, “You’re playing games!” and turned taking several large deliberate strides towards the door only to halt as she continued, “Do you really want to take that chance, Agent Gibbs? I thought he meant so much more to you than that. Hmm I must have been sorely mistaken.”

He whirled back ready to lash out but resisted the overwhelming urge to do so. Drawing in a calming breath he slowly approached the table and lowered into the seat again. He then pinned her with the intensity of a bug under a microscope before asking, “What kind of a sick game are you playing?”

She sighed making quite the production out of studying her nails before answering, “Really what would I stand to gain by playing games? You asked for answers and I gave you a clue. Most good investigators would at least _investigate_. You are such a grave disappointment.”

“What game are you playing?”

“None. You wanted answers, and I told you where to look. If I am doing anything at all. It is _helping_.”

“And why would you want to help the man you set up?”

“Who said anything about setting anyone up? He is of little concern to me. My aim is you.”

“And you’re using him to get at me.”

Settling back into her chair she huffed rolling her eyes before idly stating, “And there he goes.”

_“WHAT?”_

“Well, Agent Gibbs, you seem to have this overinflated sense of self-importance. You think this was all an elaborate game to get to _you_? Granted you are and have always been a part of the plan, but that plan is not what you perceive it to be.”

“No? So you _didn’t_ set up Agent DiNozzo to be abducted and…”

“FINALLY!” 

She relaxed further and Gibbs demanded, “What?”

“We have been at this _forever_ and you have finally said his name. I am very proud of you, Agent Gibbs. You have finally stopped stroking your own ego. Now we are getting somewhere.”

“What are you…?”

“There is a whole other angle to this entire situation. One that you have refused to even consider. Would you care for some enlightenment, Agent Gibbs?”

“You’re playing…”

Rolling her eyes and releasing a frustrated sigh she continued, “Argh you are so very tiring! You are like a broken record, forever stuck on repeat. No. NO! Let us get back to the heart of the matter before that ego of yours becomes blinding.”

“The heart of the matter?”

She leaned forward staring intently into his eyes as she firmly said, “I have three words for you, Agent Gibbs. Three itty bitty words.”

“What?”

Winking she continued, _“Anthony DiNozzo Junior.”_

“What?”

“The other side of this whole situation, the one side you are refusing to even acknowledge is that your _Senior Field Agent_ is the one they abducted NOT YOU. You seem to keep forgetting that little fact in your attempts to interrogate me.”

****

_Abyei, North Sudan_

The sudden explosion of unexpected pain to the outer side of his left leg had him jerking abruptly upright, loudly shouting “Son of a bitch! Fuck!” as it flew out from under him bringing him to a jarring halt against the chains presently encapsulating each wrist. Mere seconds later he lapsed into a brutal cough that damned near stole his breath leaving him momentarily floundering. Struggling desperately to regain even a small semblance of control he forced saliva down his extremely parched throat, wincing as it convulsed in protest. 

Aware that his visitor was now looming over him he silently cursed. Damn. He was far from strong enough to take on a cold-hearted bastard presently at the height of a damned power trip!

Shaking his head to dismiss the momentary exhaustion haunting his every waking moment he opened his eyes glowering at his visitor and unsurprised to see the crazed smiling face of the colonel staring back. The man had to be insane. It was the only logical explanation for his quirky personality.

The colonel, unaware of his current thoughts, chose to lower his present weapon of choice propping it against the wall as he blatantly assessed him. For what reason, he really didn’t want to know.

He idly returned the favor studying the colonel, watching him in return, waiting for him to do or say something. Instead he just continued to openly scan him from head to toe and back again. He shuddered silencing his mind as it attempted to lead him in a direction he’d rather not go. No. The colonel had never crossed that line with him. Never and he was certain that he wasn’t about to start now. Plus the scan didn’t feel overly lecherous. No it felt _concerned_ , like he was… _worried_? Shaking his head he waited tensing as the man issued a soft contemplative “Hmm.” 

_Okay so definitely worried, but why?_ Why would the bastard even care if he were injured or hurt in any way, especially after having coldly delivered that initial blow to his leg?

The colonel soon shifted settling his gaze directly on his face announcing, “You know I was once very much like you, Agent DiNozzo.”

Swallowing he managed a somewhat hoarse, “What?” _No comment on his noticeable concern for his welfare? Really? And why the sudden segue into casual conversation?_

“I was a police officer.”

_As if that explained everything and…wait, WHAT?_

“…And I thoroughly loved that job.”

 _Who’d have ever thought…?_ “But?”

“I soon learned that policemen are very corrupt.”

_Okay…_

“And it was a very disappointing discovery. Traumatizing too. Realizing that even though they were _supposed_ to serve and protect that they were all crooked and dirty. Not one had a redeeming quality, not a one.”

Seeing the slight twitch in Tony’s eyes and the soft bite into his bottom lip he continued, “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I can see it in your eyes.”

He said nothing as the colonel continued, “You see, Agent DiNozzo, I became a cop because I thought, I _believed_ , that there was a distinct line between good and evil, I expected it. However, I quickly learned that line was extremely skewed in favor of evil.”

Confused by where this conversation was leading he waited unsurprised when it continued, “Do you know that for the right price you can get just about anything or suddenly forget what you saw in the first place? Whether it be an elephant tusk, illegal weapons or hell even a young girl? They take our people and betray them, sell them to the highest bidder. Take our animals and kill them for nothing more than bone and fur leaving the rest to _rot_. There is so much corruption the soil bleeds with it. The air reeks of it, and our people suffer for it. It is all around us: greed, hatred, rage, jealousy, lust… I wanted to make a difference, to protect my people but in a force so damaged very few get help, but many get burnt while others line their pockets. As a result I have come to believe that there are very few incorruptible people left in this world.”

_Okay so…_

Tony remained quiet watching the colonel’s dizzying pace shifting as he was seeing similarities and _hating_ it, caught off guard by a direct “Do you understand now?” he jolted becoming aware that his head was drifting slowly downwards. Dragging it back up he uttered an exhausted, “Understand what?”

“How easily you could have become just like me?”

 _And we’re back to that?_ “No.”

“Yes. You stand for justice. I once did, and now I stand for power because it takes brunt force to change others. You do whatever you have to...”

Sweeping his tongue across dry lips and feeling little relief in quenching his thirst he managed a hoarse, “You became…vigilante.”

“Of a sorts I suppose I did.”

“Mm, and now?”

The colonel stopped directly before him, studying him intently, impulsively pressing his pointer finger gently against his bottom lip and drawing it slowly across. The roughness beneath his fingertip was indicative of lack of water. Shaking his head he made a mental note to have yet another talk with Akeem. Perhaps it was time he ignored that troublesome agreement and implemented some strict discipline, preferably before the bastard killed him. Soon, soon he would outlive his usefulness and then he could take care of that pesky problem permanently.

Shaking his head he was rather disappointed when the man didn’t even attempt to pull away, not because he did not want to, but because he was simply too damned weak to do so. His cheeks were still hollowed, skin flushed and damned near translucent. He was fading rather quickly his eyes sliding shut several times only for him to force them open again as he waited. Damn Akeem!

Deciding to force a reaction out of him he altered his topic to something he just _knew_ he’d react to, “It is why I _permit_ her to live.”

“Her?”

Casually eyeing him he offered a soft, “Why your friend, Agent DiNozzo. The one you have protected so thoroughly. I have to say you have hidden her extremely well, even I do not know where she is. I admire that about you. How you go out of your way to protect her and that little girl.”

Tony flushed trying very hard to control his emotions and momentarily floundering. Shit!

Seeing it the colonel continued, “Do not worry so, Agent DiNozzo, I have no desire to chase after her or that little girl, and the others have no knowledge of her. I sent her to your friend so that he would protect her…of course sadly he failed to protect you but in the end he paid for his betrayal.”

_What. The. Fuck!_

“Well that garnered a reaction out of you, I see. Good. I was beginning to wonder if Akeem’s carelessness with your care was effecting your mind.”

“You bastard!”

“Hmm _love_ tapping into that unbridled anger and rage you keep such a tight grip on. Must get tiring.”

“What?” came his venomous reply. 

“Controlling your anger, reining in all that rage, biting your tongue, bottling all those _nasty_ little emotions up and burying them so very deep inside.”

“You’re an asshole!”

When the taunt ended in a violent coughing spat the colonel cursed outright. Damn him for restricting his water intake! They had been focusing heavily on getting food back into him, but liquids was another thing entirely. Quickly he retrieved the bottle of water he had brought along and approached gently lifting Tony’s head up scowling when the man yanked away from him only to release a sharp cry that lapsed into another bout of coughing.

Watching him intently he waited for Tony to regain control aware of the dangers that restricted breathing could have on _this_ particular prisoner. As the coughs soon began to subside he winced upon hearing his labored breathing. When Tony seemed to have succeeded he pressed a gentle hand to the side of his face cupping his cheek as he snapped, “Do not jerk away from me, Agent DiNozzo. I am only trying to help you.”

“Help,” came the strained whisper his voice cracking as he forced out, “By pissing…me…off…”

Moving the hand to press loosely over his mouth he continued, “Yes _help_ and if you would stop being such a stubborn ass I will give you some water.”

“Ass…” came the garbled harsh whisper.

The colonel pressed forward, “STOP TALKING.”

“Wha…”

Raising his gaze to the ceiling he shook his head reining in his irritation with the man’s stubborn side. Slowly he moved his hand back to cupping his cheek and pressing the rim of the water bottle to his lips urging, “Drink, Agent DiNozzo, it is only water, and you seem to need it more than I.”

His first instinct was to yank away again, as if reading his thoughts the colonel commanded, “DO NOT YANK AWAY FROM ME.”

That brought his gaze abruptly up as he managed to finally focus on the one before him. Seeing the unexpected concern in the colonel’s eyes he opened his mouth to question him when the man simply tipped the bottle. As cool water sloshed into his mouth he couldn’t help but sag in relief as he accepted it. It had felt like it had been much too long since he had had any water. The colonel’s voice invaded his thoughts as he urged still in that authoritative voice, “SIPS or you will get sick, and right now that is something you can ill afford, Agent DiNozzo.”

After several moments he drew the bottle away asking, “How long has it been this time?”

“Don’t know…no concept…time.”

“Hmm how long would you estimate?”

“Was at the doc’s not long ago. Two maybe three…not real sure.”

“In _this climate_? What was he thinking?”

“Revenge, Colonel…”

“He is trying to kill you.”

“Nah…just punish…resist…”

Again he pressed the bottle to his lips ordering, “Drink.”

Refusal was on the tip of his tongue, but even he could tell that he desperately needed to drink. After several sips the colonel drew the bottle away before stating, “Slow down. If you drink too fast you _will_ get ill. Now drink some more.”

“Bossy…”

The comment fell silent as the colonel pressed the bottle to his lips once again helping him to drink. He had to admit that he was starting to feel a little bit better, so it was obviously working. The colonel interrupted his thoughts with a tense, “Less thinking and more drinking, Agent DiNozzo.”

_Now how the hell did he do that?_

“I have studied you for some time and have invested a lot of effort into learning many of your tells. I also happen to know that your mind races a million miles a minute, and that you always think about five steps ahead of everyone else. It is part of what makes you such a good investigator, Agent DiNozzo. Now again focus on drinking the water.”

Drawing the bottle away he was unsurprised when Tony muttered a snarky, “Creepy bastard.”

“Hmm takes a creepy bastard to deal with a stubborn ass like you.”

“Dick.”

The bottle reappeared as if by magic and as he slowly sipped he finally had enough energy to glare angrily at the colonel who chuckled softly as he said, “Ah there it is that delicious anger and icy cold stare. You _must_ be starting to feel better.”

_Uh what?_

As he withdrew the bottle of water silence settled between them for several more moments before Tony’s curiosity pushed him to make a dangerous inquiry, “Tell me what it was.”

“What?”

“The moment, the incident that made you choose…to pursue power over justice, that defining moment, Colonel.”

“You need to conserve your strength and energy. The water will only give a brief reprieve. Do you really think you should be wasting it questioning me, Agent DiNozzo?”

_What? Had he struck a nerve with that inquiry?_

Licking his lips again he swallowed hard, wincing as he felt the soreness of his throat, eased some now from the water the colonel had just provided, but still very much present. Knowing he shouldn’t push his luck but daring to anyways he cleared his throat continuing, “You want to talk then tell me what incident made you choose a different, darker path.”

It was the colonel’s turn to glare back as he simply said, “You are far too dehydrated to be pursuing such a discussion with me.”

“Hmm, hit…nerve…”

“And again your voice is beginning to fade.”

“Stubborn… What was it?”

Shaking his head at the persistent man before him he settled on offering, “That is a very personal question, Agent DiNozzo.”

Not discouraged by that comment in the least he forced out a pointed, “Yes it is, isn’t it?”

The colonel’s eyes narrowed, lips pursing as he studied his quarry with a perceptiveness that left one damned near shuddering and NOT from desire or cold. 

The attack came swiftly, abruptly out of nowhere as the colonel reached, grabbing, latching onto his hair before yanking his head viciously back. The only response a choked cry and hiss as thunderous pain answered the aggressive action. Drawing in several calming breaths it took him several moments before he was able to force his eyes open as he pinned the colonel with a fiery glare of his own. Obviously the question had seriously angered him. Managing a twisted sneer he uttered, “Struck a big nerve… Did I?”

The only response to that question was the flash of rage and anger now crossing the colonel’s facial features along with the grasp in his hair intensifying and drawing his head so far back that it damned near snapped. He tried to muffle his reaction, but couldn’t successfully silence it all, releasing a barely audible moan as he tightly squeezed his eyes shut. 

As if the colonel had heard his distress and suddenly realized what he was doing the grip eased considerably. Forcing his eyes open again he centered his gaze on the colonel hissing, “Turnabout’s…fair play, Colonel.”

“You make unwise decisions, my friend, most unwise.”

“Yeah…still…” releasing a painful cough the colonel smiled as he gently patted Tony’s left cheek before hushing him by pressing a hand gently over his mouth again urging, “You really should cease talking when you are so very dehydrated.”

The glower had the colonel chuckling as he eased his hand away and said, “One can never be too careful.”

Tony eyed him speculatively before licking his lips and managing a hoarse, “Mmm, you’re good…almost got…me off…topic with that…one.”

“You really should hush now before your voice fails you completely.”

“Mmm suit you…wouldn’t?”

“Why are you so curious about me, Agent DiNozzo?”

“Think you use people…when have no further use…toss away…tyrant…”

While it was expected he still reacted releasing a growl of pain as the other hand had suddenly formed a fist and impacted his side, the grip on his hair releasing instantly as his natural reaction to fly forward kicked in. Gasping for breath, he struggled momentarily to rein in the strong urge to cough, floundering before failing as it sent him head long into another violent bat of it.

The colonel again became overly concerned hearing the wheezing prevalent from the strike and cursing his own stupidity for allowing his prisoner to get under his skin. Damned bastard was so much more than he had ever expected and he loved it, but his stupidity could kill him just as quickly as Akeem’s determination to starve and dehydrate him to death.

For the second time he found himself gently coaxing the man. As the coughing began to subside the colonel relaxed some again retrieving the water bottle and cupping Tony’s face in his hand. As he seemed to regain control and open his mouth the colonel pressed the rim of the bottle against his lips again commanding, “DRINK.”

Managing to once again open his eyes he looked into the face of the colonel. Shit! He wanted to refuse but again acquiesced relaxing some as the cold refreshing liquid filled his mouth and slid down his throat. After several more prompts to drink and the colonel’s persistence in forcing the liquid into his mouth he settled and accepted it. Soon the colonel drew the bottle away once more. Licking his lips Tony quipped, “Really gotta stop meeting like this, Colonel.”

The comment was so unexpected and so… _him_ that the colonel could only respond to it by laughing himself. Shaking his head he stated, “You are one of the most stubborn bastards I have ever had the privilege of knowing, Agent DiNozzo. What am I ever going to do with you?”

“Not fault…can be high…maintenance…”

Pressing the rim of the bottle to his mouth once more he answered, “Oh but so very worth it.”

 _What?_ “Being creepy ‘gain.”

“And on that note you will drink more.”

He tried to respond but the colonel squelched it by deliberately tipping the bottle. Glaring over the rim at the bastard’s actions he soon was once again slowly sipping.

The colonel smiled brightly commenting, “You may hate my methods, but you must cease talking for now and get more water into your system. You know that I am right.”

The glare became icier. He chuckled.

After several more moments he drew the bottle away and answered, “My father was a brutal tyrant, Agent DiNozzo. He was one of the most crooked men I have ever known. You ask me what defining moment pushed me to choose power over justice: _he did_ , him and his cruelty.”

“Mmm so he was a bastard then?”

“Much like yours.”

“My father…”

“When will you stop defending him and his actions, Agent DiNozzo? When will you stop defending _all_ of them and their actions towards you?”

“What?”

“You allow them to use you, to take advantage of you, to treat you poorly. I do not understand why. Actually yes perhaps I do. Your Agent Gibbs has much to answer for. It is part of the reason why I have helped Akeem towards gaining his revenge. The problem is that he is now going much too far. He believes that through you he can make the bastard suffer. After observing you and your team I do believe there to be some merit in that line of thinking, but I will not allow it. You are _**mine**_ , and he will learn to accept that.”

“Um okay…” _The colonel was being frighteningly possessive again. Just what the hell did he want?_

The colonel noting the quizzical confused look crossing his prisoner’s face stated, “Ah and there you go thinking far too much again, Agent DiNozzo.”

“You’re…very strange.”

“He sold her, you know, to punish me for whatever twisted justification served his purpose at the time.”

_WHAT?_

Shaking his head at the sudden jump in topic he forced out a half-choked, “What?”

“My father. You asked why I hated him.”

“No I asked what made you choose…”

“Same thing. I hated the bastard…and I envy you.”

_What?_

The topic jumps were making him dizzy. He was struggling to follow them even more than before. Squeezing his eyes shut he felt the start of a headache beginning and forced out a tense, “Wha…why? I don’t…” as his head slowly drifted forward.

The colonel focused on his prisoner noting that his attention was wavering yet again. He was also no longer holding himself upright, dangling instead from his shackles. The metal crudely cutting into already badly damaged wrists. Damn Akeem!

Leaning forward he gently gripped Tony’s chin lifting his head up as he pushed the bottle firmly against his still too dry lips and urged, “Drink, Agent DiNozzo. You are far more dehydrated than even I was aware, and when was the last time you have eaten?”

“Um, uh I don’t…really remember. Doctor was insisting…daily visits but…”

Cursing he tipped the bottle as he softly encouraged, “You have lost track of the days again. Here. Sip, and we shall see what more we can do to remedy the food situation as well.”

As the bottle was drawn away from his mouth he licked his lips muttering a soft, “Thanks,” unaware that he even verbalized it. After several more moments he questioned, “Envy?”

“What?”

“You _envy_ me? Why?”

“Because you still have her.”

“Her?” _What the hell was he talking about now, and why was it so difficult to focus on the conversation?_

As if he had heard the internal question the colonel answered, “Because the combination of dehydration with starvation causes confusion and disorientation, Agent DiNozzo. You are struggling because your attention is wavering and you are extremely exhausted. These are only some of the reasons Akeem will need disciplined.”

“Hmm…”

Shaking his head he once again pressed the water bottle to his lips relaxing only when the stubborn man once again accepted it. Watching as he struggled to sip the water the colonel quietly continued, “If things had been different she would have most likely turned out to be very much like your Gothic friend, Abigail, is it?”

That brought his head up quickly and the fear he tried to suppress flared briefly across his facial features. The colonel had hit a very tender nerve with that comment, which he very well _knew_ after having studied the man. Quickly he assured, “Do not worry so about her. I will keep her safe from both Akeem and myself.”

“What?”

“You see I know that all I would have to do is hurt one little hair on her head, and you would probably do ANYTHING for me. But for me, Agent DiNozzo, that is simply too easy, and she is far too vital to you. No I will not harm her. She is much too much like the one I lost, and I want to CONQUER you fairly, using her would be a selfish endeavor and would not be nearly as satisfying.”

Swallowing hard he felt true fear settle in only for it to be slightly alleviated by the colonel’s next words, “I promise she will remain unharmed. I will not go after her. Plus in order to get to her I would have to first get through your Agent Gibbs, and I promised Akeem he could have his fun first.”

“What?”

“He will defend her as fiercely as he will defend you, especially now that he is very aware of his errors. I fear Akeem’s biggest mistake has and will continue to be the fact that he sees you as a direct route to destroying your Agent Gibbs.”

“Mistake?” _Damn, he was really confused now…and tired…as hell._

“Quiet your mind. You must rest, and you must recover.”

“Right.”

“I believe it is far passed time that you have another visit with the doctor. You are fading far too quickly and twice you have lost your breath due to extreme coughing fits.”

“Nope…good. Been there…already…”

“I know you hate and loathe him, but his job does not only involve interrogation. He is also charged with the duty of ensuring you remain healthier than you presently are. I will be going away for a few days and Akeem needs to be reined in again before he kills you.”

“Nice…but dream…”

“Please relax.”

“Wants revenge…knows I’m one way…getting it.”

“We will be visiting the doctor before I must leave, but I will not remain gone long.”

“Trust…issues, Colonel?”

“Mmm you are far too observant for your own good, Agent DiNozzo.”

After the span of a heartbeat his prisoner asked another unexpected question that threw him, “Colonel, what is it you really want from me?”

Wondering what prompted said question he studied his prisoner for a moment. He was fading far faster than expected, and the last thing he had expected was that particular question being uttered from dry lips. He debated about replying watching as yet again his head was drooping forward before he forced it back up, eyes opening to peer intently at him. Waiting.

Rubbing the back of his neck he released a soft sigh as he replied, “You are far too exhausted for this conversation, Agent DiNozzo.”

“Nope. Want to know…” Slowly he forced his feet back under him drawing to his full height though he wavered violently in his restraints. 

Deciding to appease the stubborn man he simply shrugged his shoulders and offered an answer, “I _want_ what everyone else wants.”

“No. No see that’s not your main goal. You want something else, something _more_.”

“And you are just dying to know what that is. You are persistent. I will give you that.”

Pursing his lips he focused on him forcing the lethargy away as he studied him intently. The more he attempted to the more uncomfortable he became as he not only read a desire for answers in those eyes he read a desire for possession and ownership in them. He read a distinct appreciation and admiration in them…for _him_. Now _that_ definitely did not sit well with him.

Licking his lips, shifting nervously, he put voice to his thoughts, “You’re right, much too exhausted for this…”

The colonel smiled as he leaned in closer once again lifting his chin to focus intently on his prisoner as he said, “No. I believe that you are just beginning to comprehend my primary goals, Agent DiNozzo.”

“Nah definitely too tired for this…”

Not willing to let the topic rest he persisted, “Are they what you expected?”

Eyes sliding momentarily shut he quickly snapped them open, once again dragging his tongue across his bottom lip as he managed a soft, “What?”

Humoring him he answered, “My _goals_ , Agent DiNozzo. Are they what you expected?”

“…‘m tired.”

“You are making excuses.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are. Tell me. Be totally honest with me…”

“Wha…what?”

Tightening his grip to draw his attention he smiled as the man once again focused on him before persisting, “Are my goals what you expected? Or does my desire to hold onto you, to keep you, scare the hell out of you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Colonel.”

And suddenly he sounded so much more alert. Shaking his head he was unable to resist the opportunity to call him on his excuse, “Ah denial in a lie. How very… _expected_.”

The tension in his prisoner notably increased so he chose to continue, “Tell me. Would it bother you to know how very thoroughly I have studied you, Agent DiNozzo? How very long I have had my sights set upon you?”

Staring him down he simply offered, “You’re crazy.”

The colonel’s smile widened, “It is no mere coincidence that you are here, you know. Everyone believes that your Agent Gibbs is the primary target, which is _exactly_ what I want them to think. If they realized that it was you all along do you think they would become even more desperate to find you?”

Tony’s expression became stony as he tried to ignore the words and the realizations that the colonel was stirring in his mind with that unexpected reveal. He suddenly felt even more anxious and nervous than he had prior. Surely the colonel was just screwing with him again, saying things to stir him up and put him off balance. There was no way that he was telling the truth…

Interrupting his internal thoughts the colonel added, “Especially your Agent Gibbs, I am sure he would move mountains to get you back. I have no doubt that he would even _kill_ for you. Yes, I do believe that he is now beginning to understand all the grave injustices he has cast upon you. He is beginning to realize how very foolish his ideals have been. He regrets it. I assure you. He regrets forcefully subverting you, suppressing you to keep his position and status on the team. He no doubt regrets keeping you beneath him, weaker than him, pushing you to no doubt question yourself and lose faith in those around you. I have ensured that he will never take advantage of you again. He will learn your true value as will you.”

“You’re…”

“Lying, Agent DiNozzo? Stretching the truth, saying things to gain a reaction from you? Perhaps…perhaps not. Tell me why is it so very hard for you to believe, to realize, that it is _you_ who intrigues me, that it is _you_ who truly fascinates me? I care little for your Agent Gibbs, to me he is just an obstacle that is not worth my time. No. It is not he who held your team together. It is not he who has trained your team to be the agents they are today. It is not he who puts the odd little details together. No that is all _you_. Why then should he intrigue me? No. I fear he means absolutely nothing to me. The truth is I am the one who sought _you_ out. I am the one who gave the order, the command to capture you alive and bring you here. My goal, my target, my focus has always been _**YOU**_.” 

****

_NCIS Headquarters – Abby’s Lab_

What was in Grantsville, Maryland? Why had McGee told her to look into it? Unsure of the purpose or the direction she was supposed to be going she settled first on looking it up on the map. Next she searched for information on the web and a satellite overview of the entire area. McGee had said that it was important and Gibbs would explain later. Quickly she began digging up what she could and unsure as to what she would find.

It wasn’t long before McGee had called her a second time telling her to search for areas with lots of forest and properties consisting of a lot of acreage in that same general area. What the hell was going on, and why had no one come down to explain it all? 

Shaking her head she continued her research jumping as Gibbs suddenly swept into the room demanding, “Find anything Abs?”

“Sure lots but no idea what I'm looking for.”

“It’s important.”

“Okay…” Pausing to focus on him she inquired, “Tell me what you expect to find.”

“I don’t know…something, maybe nothing.”

“Gibbs…”

Shaking his head he approached. Taking his silence and lack of explanation at face value she simply nodded before informing, “Grantsville is located near the Pennsylvania border in north-central Garrett County, Maryland. It provides easy access to five state parks and…”

“Five state parks? How big are these parks, Abs?”

Pausing in her explanation she cocked her head to the right before answering, “Well that depends, Gibbs.”

“On what?”

“On what you consider to be _big_.”

“Abby…”

“Okay well there are a few small parks and some larger ones…”

“How large?”

“Uh well…”

“Large enough to accommodate several hundred acres of woods?”

“Yes.” She studied him intently waiting for further explanation. Certain she wouldn’t get any she continued, “It sits on the cusp of Maryland’s largest state forest.”

“How large are we talking here?”

“Fifty thousand acres and that’s just the forest not the other areas it brushes up against.”

Gibbs looked contemplative and suddenly worried. After several moments he asked, “Satellite give us anything?”

“Um not really just shows us a lot of woods."

"Anything else?"

"A few random structures scattered throughout. I tried to zoom in to get a closer look but no luck. It just gets all fuzzy.”

“Do you think there’s anything there?”

“Well I don’t know but…”

“Can you clear it up?”

“Yeah sure. It’ll take some time but… Gibbs what is going on?”

Suddenly remembering who was taken to interrogation earlier she pointedly demanded, “What did she say?”

Gibbs focused on her intently opening his mouth then closing it again. Abby persisted, “Tell me what she said.”

Releasing a tense breath he answered, “It could be nothing…”

“And you don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“Abby.”

“Gibbs.”

Hesitating briefly he soon surrendered to her intense stare, “To go to Grantsville, Maryland…she said to go to Grantsville.”

“Why?”

“Because she…she said that…”

“You’re stalling...”

Huffing he continued, “She said that we would find some answers there.”

“Some _answers_ …to what?”

“Don’t know, all she said is that it was a step in the right direction, a step towards finding Tony.”

“And how do you know she’s not just saying that to mess with you, Gibbs? You know she doesn’t like you, has in fact according to the Director openly targeted you. What makes you think we can trust anything she says?”

“Don’t think we have a choice, Abs.”

“Why?”

“She said it might clear a few things up regarding Tony…”

“What else did she say?”

“Um well she may have, might have, made mention of looking into a sizable bit of property.”

“Was this before or after she taunted you endlessly?”

He pursed his lips. She nodded then continued, “Well the biggest pieces of property in the immediate area are all the natural areas.”

“Natural areas?”

“Yeah you know, forest land, game lands, things like that.”

Studying her intently he quietly asked, “Any isolated homes on sizeable lots, Abs?”

“Isolated homes? Plenty. On sizeable lots? Not so many.”

“Can you get me a list?”

Arching a brow at him she said, “I’m assuming that there’s something to find on one of these properties…?”

He gnawed on his bottom lip before answering with a simple nod.

She studied him a few moments longer then turned back to her computer selecting print. As the list came out she retrieved it and extended it towards him continuing, “So planning to go to every one of them?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you had better be very careful. She could be leading you into a trap.”

“Or she could be providing us more answers.”

“For what purpose?”

“I…I don’t know, Abs, but we need to at least look into it.”

Nodding she persisted in her warning, “But you need to be…”

Pressing a finger gently to her lips he continued, “I know, Abs. We’ll be careful. It could be a trap, but if it could help us track Tony I’m willing to do just about anything.”

“And she _knows that_. You _have_ to be careful.”

“We will, but we can’t ignore it. It may be nothing, but if we don’t check into it…”

Sighing she nodded before wrapping her arms around him and saying, “Just be careful, and please come back to me.”

“We will, Abs, I promise we will.”

Nodding she released him and turned back to focus on her computer. Her eyes sliding momentarily to look at one of the pictures of Tony she had placed on her wall. Silently she made the vow she said every time she looked at any one of his pictures: _We will find you, Tony. I promise you we will. You just need to hang in there a little while longer… Please, **please** hang in there!_

****

_Grantsville, Maryland_

It had been several days, several days of monotonous follow ups and endless research on all of their parts tracking down any viable locations that met the perimeters of Samina Khalil’s “clues”. They all knew that she could simply be sending them on a wild goose chase while she sat back and laughed at their ridiculousness. Gibbs had initially wanted to blow it off but knew that if it led to _something_ and they neglected to follow all leads he’d never forgive himself. As a result, the team conducted research on what they could before finally settling on making a trip to Grantsville.

Abby had narrowed down their search to several properties within range of the coordinates Samina had eventually written down. She had then given them several detailed maps of the surrounding area. Pulling out one of those maps now McGee looked at it noting where they were and assessing the property lines highlighted in red on this particular map. Climbing out of the vehicle he continued to scan the immediate vicinity. Apparently what he had thought could have been a route of egress was merely a fire or access road and it ended in the center of nowhere.

There was _nothing_ here. How could there be nothing? Why would they be given coordinates to a dead end road? Unless she was playing a game as Gibbs had accused her of several times during her first interrogation. Perhaps they just weren’t seeing what they were meant to? Or dare he say, dare he suggest, that perhaps maybe Abby could have been _wrong_? 

Shaking his head and glancing briefly at Agents’ Balboa and Ferris he shrugged his shoulders and dialed his boss informing, “Uh boss there’s nothing here. Are we sure there’s anything to find?” He asked while continuing to look around at what appeared to be endless woods and meadow.

Gibbs voice came back over the phone, “Well yeah McGee. She sent us there for a reason.”

“Or she’s toying with you.”

“Look around. See what’s there, but be careful, Tim. Is Agent Ferris with you?”

“Yeah Balboa too.”

“Good. Stick together. Take precautions. We were sent there for a reason. We have no idea why. Just…be careful. Fornell and I will be there shortly.”

As the sound of the dial tone greeted him he drew the phone away from his ear and looked at it quizzically before shaking his head. Balboa approached startling him as he hadn’t heard him exit the vehicle and offered a grin inquiring, “He being a bear?”

“Yes ever since…”

“Good. It’s about damned time. Now let’s see if there’s anything here.”

“Other than trees?”

“Yep. She wants us to see or find something.”

“Not sure what,” added Agent Ferris as he approached the other two agents also actively scanning the immediate vicinity.

“That’s what worries me.”

“Do either of you see anything?”

“No.”

Feeling unsettled McGee opted for ideal chatter, “Abby said that when she was researching this property she found out there had been a private zoo here at one time, wonder what it was like or if anything of it still…”

Balboa had been listening to the younger agent shaking his head as he passed by another thick copse of trees only to halt, eyes widening in surprise as they settled on several old rickety cages eerily lined up in a neat row directly in front of him. Realizing that McGee had since fallen silent he licked his lips before offering a tense, “Uh yeah, zoo. Right.”

“What?” inquired McGee upon hearing his mutterings.

He answered with an abrupt, “You sure these cages were designed to hold _animals_ , Agent McGee?”

“What are you talking about?”

Approaching he fell silent as his eyes swept across the odd line of cages that had caught Balboa’s attention. There were at least six of them all neatly in a row, all looking large enough to hold an animal or two. He dared not think of what else those cages could hold and suddenly wondered what the hell had driven Balboa to even make such a strange comment in the first place. As if hearing that thought Balboa settled on a much simpler statement of, “This place feels _evil_ ,” deliberately ignoring the obvious chill presently climbing his spine. 

McGee looked up at him startled before managing, “Why do you…?” as the wind oddly blew their direction carrying upon it a faint yet familiar scent triggering him to force out a strained, “You smell that?”

Balboa turned away from the empty cages pinning McGee with a knowing look as he managed, “Do you think we may have found what she was leading us to, Agent McGee?”

He shuddered replying, “I sure as hell hope that’s not what I think it is.”

Agent Ferris having since joined them added, “Nah it’s the woods, animals die in the woods all the time. Probably some deer a hunter shot and couldn’t track or a predator’s fresh kill,” rolling his eyes he continued, “You two have very overactive imaginations.”

McGee glared at him before snarling back, “Well then by all means, Agent Ferris, please feel free to go investigate and prove us both wrong.”

Ferris shrugged his shoulders and slipped passed both men, moving beyond the cages and out of sight. It was mere moments before he was calling back, “Guys there’s nothing here I tell you!”

McGee’s eyes swept over the abandoned cages overgrown with plants and vines shivering before murmuring, “No, nothing. I mean _these_ aren’t creepy or anything…”

Balboa chuckled prompting McGee to ask, “What?”

“For a moment there you sounded just like Tony… Guess he kind of rubbed off on you more than you no doubt care to admit.” Arching a brow at McGee he was not surprised to see the young agent shuffle anxiously at the comparison. Hesitating only a moment he opted for once to openly speak his mind, “You know, McGee, you can learn a lot from him if you’d just listen and give him a chance. He’s a damned good agent. You just need to be willing to hear what he says and do as he asks. The mouthing off and ignoring his orders is not how a junior agent is supposed to conduct themselves. You let Agent David influence you far too much." Shaking his head he continued, "Some Mossad agent she turned out to be uh? Taught from birth to follow chain of command yet here she doesn’t, actually blatantly refuses to. She does whatever the hell she wants and that is not how partners, how _team mates_ are supposed to work together. You know, I would have loved to be on his team...”

“Everyone would love to be on Gibbs’ team. He’s the best, but his attitude…”

“No not because of Gibbs, because of _Tony_. You two never give him enough credit and he has years of experience beyond even some of us. He was a _police officer_ before he started at NCIS. Most of us only have this agency under our belt. He climbed the ranks fast and is a damned good investigator. If you’d just get your head out of your ass you would see that and learn a hell of a lot. You’d become damned good, but you don’t. You’re blinded and it’s aggravating to all of us. Any one of us would be damned proud to be DiNozzo’s probie instead that honor was bestowed upon a selfish, egotistical, ungrateful son of a bitch. Pisses a lot of us off to see how you treat him, how your whole team treats him. You don’t deserve him, none of you do. His talents are wasted on your team, and to think he gave up a promotion for the lot of you."

“Hey! I’ll have you know…”

“Uh guys!” came the unexpectedly sharp retort of Agent Ferris. Both perked up and headed in his direction. Once beyond the copse of trees and passed the creepy cages the terrain took an abrupt and rather sharp drop. Agent Ferris now stood several feet from their position his gaze set intently downwards. As they approached his arm shot out to stop them as he explained, “Ground’s a bit unstable here and well…I don’t believe any of us would want to end up…down there.”

Peering over Ferris’ shoulder McGee hissed, paling, arm immediately coming up to cover his nose as he managed “Guess we found the source of our smell.”

Balboa inched closer and peered in also paling as he managed, “Believe it’s time to get more of our people here. This is gonna take a while to process.”

“Um yeah, already on it,” offered Ferris who presently held up his phone. They once again fell silent before McGee forced out, “So guys…how many bodies do you think are in there?”

Balboa focused intently on the multitude of grotesquely twisted skeletons, the dark somewhat faded blood stains and the two newer decomposing bodies both impaled on deadly sharp spikes jutting menacingly upright from the base of a rather large, deep pit and offered, “Uh I’d say a lot…”

Ferris contributed, “Yeah, I agree. I think we just stumbled upon a bone yard, gentlemen.”

McGee added, “Only question is whose and why the hell did our prime suspect in Tony’s abduction tell us to come here in the first place?”

Balboa arched a brow as he attempted to answer, “Think she knew this was here?”

“Oh, oh yeah I’d say she did. I bet the bitch deliberately led Agent Gibbs here to torment him further.”

“But…”

“She said he’d find answers and what we find is a _bone yard_ , a _mass grave_? I’d say she’s definitely toying with him.”

“But why? To what end and how does _this_ connect to Tony?”

“Does it even connect to him?”

Ferris still gazing forlornly into the pit said, “Yeah, yeah I think maybe it does.”

“But how?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure we’ll eventually find out.”

“Shit this is bad!”

“Yeah you’re not kidding. This is _real_ bad.”

It wasn’t long before they could hear another car off in the distance and the sound of doors being slammed shut. Certain of who it was McGee trudged back up the hill passed the rusty cages beyond the copse of trees. Seeing the two older men off in the distance he called out, “Boss over here!”

The two men immediately headed in his direction as they drew closer McGee said, “I sure hope we have more people coming.”

Gibbs was first to answer, “We do.”

“Good, good. We’re going to need them," came his grim response.

Fornell stopped beside Gibbs gesturing for him to continue, “Well go on, Agent McGee, lead the way.”

Nodding he turned and headed back towards the copse of trees he had emerged from moments ago calling over his shoulder, “Boss, it’s beyond the cages through the next copse of trees and…”

“Beyond the _cages_?”

Before McGee could offer any kind of an explanation Fornell suddenly halted as he snarled, “Shit!” his gaze settling on the eerie cages set up in neat little rows. All McGee could do was offer a simple, “Yeah bit creepy, but that’s nothing compared to that pit.”

Fornell’s eyes widened as he prodded, “ _Pit_ , Agent McGee?”

“Uh yeah. Didn’t Ferris tell you about…?”

“All he told me is that we have some bodies, I needed to get here fast, and to bring an entourage.”

“Oh yeah well there’s a bit more than _this_ ,” he said indicating the cages. He then continued on leading them to the edge of the pit hearing Gibbs curse before snapping, “McGee we should have reinforcements soon. Once they’re here I’ll need you and Agent Ferris to head up to the cabin…”

“Cabin, boss? What cabin? There’s nothing else here except the cages and well, _this_.”

“Abby was able to clear up some of the satellite imagery. Shows a log cabin on the property. I need you and Ferris to go investigate it, find out if there’s anything there…” His voice trailed off drawing McGee’s gaze before he continued with a subtle warning of, “Expect there to be _something_ , and call us if there is.”

“And you?”

“We’ll both be here, need to guide the others back, fill them in on what’s going on…”

“Yeah okay.”

Once the others appeared McGee called to Ferris and they both drove to the log cabin that neither had known had even existed on the property. As they pulled up in front of it they were both caught by surprise at the sheer size and shared a look before settling on making their approach. Both unsure of what they were walking into, and both suspecting that they _wouldn't_ like it at all.

****

_Abyei, North Sudan_

Slowly he opened his eyes silently cursing as he was again greeted by darkness. He tried to figure out what had brought him awake recognizing, almost immediately, the sounds of someone entering his present cell. Swallowing hard and turning his head slightly, he quickly discovered that wasn’t a good idea as resounding pain sparked within. Biting back a gasp he forced the awareness of it to the back of his mind trying to direct all his attention onto the new arrival. 

He listened closely as heavy footsteps approached before drawing to a halt directly behind him. Struggling to control his sudden panicked breathing he waited on edge for his captor’s next move. Unprepared and unable to do anything but release a rather loud scream as fingers suddenly twined cruelly in his hair before yanking him violently upright. Instantly a cascade of pain flooded his system as if a dam had suddenly burst wide open spreading rapidly through his body and making his every nerve thrum, sparking with raw anguish. 

Within moments the ringing began loud, incessant, swiftly followed by a wave of dizziness that washed over him nearly dragging him under. Nausea struck violently, combining, shoving him even closer towards blessed unconsciousness. His eyes began to roll into the back of his head, darkness closing in around him only to be halted as a second vicious yank was administered bringing him abruptly back as the order, the command, to not pass out was given. Feeling the fresh pain slice deeper he forced his head forward releasing a strangled gasp as he was brought up short by the cruel grip still firmly rooted in his hair. Through the fog his brain was presently saturated in he heard a second command: _obey or suffer_. It was enough to momentarily coerce his compliance. How long he’d be able to maintain that fragile compliance, however, was another issue entirely. 

Sheer agony enveloped him making his head spin. As if to taunt him just a bit more, to test the thin hold he was trying to maintain on consciousness, his left arm began quivering, violent spasms ricocheting up and down the length of it from the present strain and pressure being exerted on it. As if that wasn’t enough his right arm had quickly followed suit protesting just as loudly. 

Both arms were perpetually extended straight out on either side of his body to their maximum length, held firmly in the iron grips of crude restraints. He was quite literally staked up like a lamb for slaughter. The position was unnatural. The human body wasn’t designed to take such constant pull and pressure on limbs for as long as he had been kept as such. How he managed to hold out for so long and not beg or plead for the torment to end was through sheer will power alone…well either that or the fact that he was extremely exhausted, kept constantly on the verge of starvation and _desperately_ in need of water.

Akeem was _definitely_ taking his revenge to the next level. The question now was: would he be able to survive it, as Akeem had apparently become lost in gaining it, which meant he was no longer completely sane. Sadly that did not bode well for his now rapidly dwindling chances.

He attempted to force his mind elsewhere, anywhere but on the present quivering of both arms, but sadly was unsuccessful. The moment he began to force himself to ignore such pain his mind shifted to the extreme numbness of each hand and the warm blood that was now freely flowing from each wrist heavily soaking into each crude binding. The smell of it potent, lingering in the ever thick suffocating air.

He tried to remain silent, but as the agony in both wrists began to escalate all he could do was react releasing a shrill cry to the air as the pain again pushed him towards unconsciousness. His head began to pound, ears ringing louder and louder quickly drowning out all other sound, his mind beginning to numb and then he was falling rapidly forward towards the darkness stalking him but instead of collapsing into sweet oblivion he released a shrill ear-piercing scream as the hand still presently latched in his hair refused to provide him with any kind of slack. 

As rapidly as he fell he was jerked to a cruel abrupt agonizing halt his mind snapping into crystal clarity as a cold harsh voice spoke. At first he couldn’t understand anything beyond the choppy, broken alien voice but sensed it was important. He was supposed to be listening wasn’t he? Why? Why did he need to listen? 

Licking his dry cracked lips he forced himself to focus, to try to listen to what was being said but still caught only snippets. Ready to give up he startled as the voice suddenly became crisp and sharp edged with sarcasm, threat and disappointment, “How much longer can you stay in this position, Anthony? It has been over a week, a week and still you refuse to cooperate.”

A week? A true week, or a false one? The colonel had said he would only be gone mere days, days didn’t equal a week and he was certain the bastard would have no doubt interceded before now if that were the case. Silencing his now chaotic mind he licked his lips, tongue damned near sticking to the roof of his mouth, the lack of water once again announcing itself in an overly dry, harsh cough. The sudden jiggling of the hand firmly gripping his hair had him releasing a sharp hiss as the action triggered the ache in his arms to increase.

“Fuck!” he panted.

Akeem chuckled continuing, “Please keep resisting, Anthony. Give me the excuse I am waiting for to continue your delicious torment.”

“Bastard…”

“Hmm perhaps, perhaps not.”

 _What? What the hell did he mean by that? What was going on?_ Ears beginning to ring rather loudly he fought, struggling to maintain his ever-wavering grip on consciousness, his body finally settling on betrayal. He was rapidly falling again, slumping heavily in his restraints only to jar painfully against the grip still locked in his hair. _Shit if that didn’t fucking hurt!_

Releasing a soft moan he was determined to block out any further awareness, but the pain in his arms only increased seemingly tripling. They felt as if they had been suddenly wrenched, dislocated, separated from their sockets. Metal sliced deeply into the tender flesh of his wrists, burrowing, creating deep gouges in their wake making his hands feel as if they were nearly cleaved from his limbs. As for his legs? Hell, he couldn’t even _feel_ them anymore, had rather forgotten about them. Was he standing or kneeling? Perhaps he was sitting? He had no idea.

Shaking his head he tried to dispel his growing confusion, attempting to recall what had initially led to his present batch of torture. His mind sorted through, trying to organize thoughts that had been thrown into chaos. Why was he here? The last thing he remembered was talking with the colonel and… That was days ago, wasn’t it? He was certain that it was, so what had led to…? Oh _questions_ , right, more questions, late night visits…or was that day visits? And lovely interrogation sessions sprinkled with heavy doses of revenge seeking… _right_. Not for the first time he briefly wondered just what the hell his boss had done to piss this bastard off so much. It had to be something big, something…

“Come talk to me, Anthony. Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me all those precious little secrets you choose to hold so dear.”

As his left arm began to quiver again he squeezed his eyes tightly shut releasing a choked off moan in response. He knew that it would only proceed to get worse so he tried to force his mind elsewhere, tried to recall again what had led to his present predicament. Questions, he had been asking questions right? Yes had to be and when he refused to answer Akeem had chosen to punish him or torment him…whatever the hell aided him in gaining any sort of sweet revenge on his boss. That had been how many days ago now? He didn’t know, couldn’t remember. His only escape other than sleep, when he managed it of course, was unconsciousness and disassociation…

The sudden aggressive yank on his hair had him again gasping and tensing. This time it was accompanied with what felt like cold sharp metal, a blade perhaps? He could feel the tip piercing ever so slightly into his cheek, a thin droplet of blood lazily following in its wake. Swallowing hard he tried to recall what was going on, tried to remember if anything had been said, had he been asked something or…? As if his captor had sensed his inattention he questioned, “So tell me Anthony, how long can you remain in this position without losing your mind? Hmm…?”

 _What?_ His attention was wavering badly now. He was very much aware that he was fading. He wouldn’t be alert for much longer. As if to emphasize that point he faltered managing a soft wince as the blade, still subtly buried in his cheek, dug in scratching along the surface and opening a thin slice. It burned, stinging momentarily, the pain quickly abating when it was removed. 

The pesky voice continued loud, abrupt making him wince even more at the harshness of it, “Can you remain like this another day, another week…how about another month? Do you think your body could handle the strain? I have seen others surrender under much less, but you, you are special, aren’t you Anthony. You have this drive, this determination to beat the odds. Your pain tolerance is very high. I am very pleased with that. Means I can draw it out, make your boss suffer in _unimaginable_ ways as I take my time ripping and tearing at your very being knowing that every slice, every bruise, every exquisite bit of torment I can ring from your precious body will cut him deeper than any weapon I wield. And I promise you, Anthony, when he does finally find you it will _completely_ destroy him. It is _inevitable_.”

Leaning in closer, lips nearly pressed against his left ear, metal tip now pressing against his temple, Akeem coldly whispered, “So tell me… What _**is** your_ limit Anthony? How much can you take? How much can you take before you _completely shatter_?”

He said nothing remaining still, eyes squeezed tightly shut, releasing a shuddering breath as what he assumed was a blade suddenly slid upwards. Instantly he yanked on his wrists releasing a choked off scream as the resulting action made the spasms in his arms only increase, the blindfold immediately slipping away exposing oversensitive eyes to harsh bitter light. As the brightness stabbed at them he desperately tried to cover them, to conceal them, shield them from the excessive pain eyes now watering fiercely. As an unexpected pat was applied to his cheek he jolted, twisting away from the unwanted touch and forcing himself to focus only to hear the smug bastard inquire, “Hurts does it not?”

Tony snarled, “You’re an ass…”

Akeem responded by forcefully shoving thick wadded cloth into his mouth, quickly drawing the loose ends snuggly together behind his head before knotting them firmly in place answering, “Hmm yes so I am.” And grinning wickedly as he tapped the make shift gag now cutting into the sides of his mouth while softly informing, “I shall leave you for now, Anthony, just you remember not to go roaming about the compound.”

Yanking away from the bastard he managed to glower icily at him despite how much his eyes presently were stinging. Akeem only continued to smile gently patting his cheek as he softly jeered, “Now, now no need to get angry with me. You needed to be silenced.”

He continued to glower eyes turning even more deadly than before. Admittedly Akeem pushed back the shiver momentarily sweeping up his spine, all too aware of just how dangerous one Anthony DiNozzo Junior could become if pushed too far. Needless to say, _cold_ and _calculating_ were barely adequate descriptions.

Pushing those thoughts aside he softly continued, “Hmm I shall leave you for now. Until next time Anthony.”

He approached the door before opening it then closing it with an abrupt slam followed shortly by the loud jingling of the lock as he secured the room. 

Tony continued to glower in the bastard’s direction, momentarily cursing before his focus was drawn fully back onto the ever-present agony incessantly thrumming through his body.

****

_Grantsville, Maryland_

Approaching the cabin McGee knocked on the door before identifying himself. When there was no response forthcoming he kicked the door in. Ferris studied him intently prompting McGee to question, “What?”

“There is such a thing as _protocol_ , Agent McGee.”

“And we have probable cause.”

Ferris’ jaw twitched before mumbling, “Now I see why the boss calls you reckless cowboys.”

“Not all of us.”

Cocking his head subtly to the right he sighed saying, “Point taken.”

McGee gestured him to enter and Ferris said, “Oh no, no after you. I insist.”

Shrugging his shoulders McGee entered. As they did a standard sweep of the cabin to insure that they were indeed alone the two returned once more to the main hall. Their eyes involuntarily sweeping up and down, side to side as they each examined the room in depth. Both shuddering before Ferris stated the obvious, “It’s a Trophy Room.”

McGee muttered, “It’s an _Entrance Hall_. What kind of person makes their entrance hall into a trophy room?”

“A hunter, Agent McGee.”

They both shared an intense gaze before once again returning their focus to the room. High up on each wall were mounted various different animals right out of an African safari hunt. Gazelle heads, Black Rhino, Ibex, Impala and a few other species of Antelope were mounted upon each and every wall. Multiple furs were draped over the furniture throughout the room or hung from the ceiling ranging anywhere from Spotted Leopard to Siberian Tiger to even Bear. 

Walking further into the room, McGee tried not to look at all the animals staring back at him and approached the fireplace gracing the wall opposite the door. Off to the right were pictures of various animals with the majority being African in nature. Whoever owned this cabin was a hunter, indeed. Directly across from that wall was a floor to ceiling book shelf presently crammed to the max. Approaching it out of curiosity he briefly scanned titles noting that the majority of them were on hunting, trapping, fishing and big game with a few others on various topics ranging from formal gardening, to botany, to survival skills and Ancient history. There were also quite a few devoted to military practices and warfare tactics. Licking his now dry lips he couldn’t help but comment, “He has interesting taste in books. Mainly hunting, trapping, survival and warfare.”

“Not surprising seeing this room.”

“Yeah…”

Ferris turned to focus on McGee his eyes finally straying away from the massive amount of animals on display to suggest, “So we ready to take the extended tour, Agent McGee?”

“Yeah sure. Where to next?”

“Bedrooms are always a nice place to start.”

“Bedrooms it is then,” and together both men exited the eerie trophy room and made their way to the bedrooms. Noting there were various antique animal traps mounted on the walls as they progressed down the hallway. Both tried to keep their gazes focused ahead feeling a bit unsettled, especially when McGee spotted a small table at the end of the hall surmounted by a lamp made of a combination of antlers for the stand and fur for the shade. He supposed that it was fitting for a log cabin but creepy when one combined it with the fact that there existed a rather extensive _Trophy Room_ in the same vicinity.

Together they searched each and every room finding nothing on their initial walk through but their second was much more thorough and as a result merited _a lot_ more. As McGee now stood at the entry way to a hidden room filled with various photographs mounted on every single wall and covering just about every available space he knew that it was time to call Gibbs. For what he was looking at was not good… _at all_.

Drawing his phone out, he shakily hit speed dial before pressing it to his ear. Hearing his boss’ voice on the other end he opted for a blunt delivery, “Boss you _need_ to get up here. Fornell too.”

“What have you found McGee? Anything?”

Moving closer to the center wall, intently studying each individual picture, he managed to force out a very tense, “Uh, you could say that. Yeah…”

“What? What is it, Tim?”

“Um not our perp just…” Reaching towards one of the mounted photographs he felt Ferris’ hand suddenly on his halting it. Looking up he saw the insistent shaking of his head making him aware of what he was just about to do. Nodding at the FBI agent he held his hand slightly above it continuing, “I think you really need to see this for yourself, boss.”

“Already on my way.”

“Good.” Ending the call he thanked Ferris then shifted taking a step back eyes slowly examining the other two walls just as in depth. Drawing in a calming breath, he suddenly was more certain that there was a hell of a lot more going on here than they had first thought.

**

After ending the call with McGee Gibbs had turned to address his other agent who had arrived with one of Fornell’s men in the second vehicle. She had reacted much like Fornell to the cages. The pit she stared at intensely for several moments before beginning to assist in gathering what they would need to process the scene from one of the vans. Approaching her now he noticed that she was again staring intently at the pit. For some reason it seemed to unsettle her. He would have to question her about it when they were alone. Right now he had a job to do, so gazing at her he simply informed, “McGee’s found something.”

“At the log cabin?” inquired Ziva finally breaking her gaze away from the pit to focus intently on Gibbs. Nodding he offered a simple, “Yes.”

“Then let us go.”

“No, no. Need someone from my team to remain here.”

Hesitantly she glanced at the pit before redirecting her attention back onto Gibbs and nodding. Noting her reaction to the order he softened his voice, “Will you be able to…”

“Yes. Yes, of course. Do not be ridiculous. I have seen much worse than this in my time.”

“Ziva…”

Forcing her gaze to lock with his she continued, “I will be fine, Gibbs. Go see what McGee has discovered.”

“If you…”

“Go. I will remain here.”

Nodding he turned to Fornell who had been waiting for him. Upon his approach Fornell quietly asked, “Think she’ll be all right here, Gibbs?” Eyes straying momentarily to the young woman who was once again staring intently at the pit her complexion appearing paler than previously.

Gibbs following his gaze also noted that she looked more disturbed than moments before. Sighing he confessed, “Rather have her here then at that cabin, Tobias.”

“Okay…”

Not offering any further explanation Gibbs started his trek back towards their vehicle waiting until both were settled inside before admitting, “She blames herself.” 

“I’m sorry. What?”

“She blames herself…for Tony’s disappearance. It was _her friend_ who betrayed him. She believes she should have known.”

“She couldn’t have…”

“You know that, and I know that but she was trained by Mossad.”

Nodding Fornell fell silent, a moment later he muttered, “They’re a mess, Gibbs.”

Gritting his teeth he started the vehicle pulling out before painfully admitting, “I know.”

“If we don’t find him…”

“We will.”

“But if…”

“We _will_ , Tobias. I won’t rest until he’s damned well found.”

“What if…”

Irritated he jerked the wheel onto the dirt road gunning it as he snapped, “No room for what ifs, Toby. We’re getting Tony back even if I have to charge into hell myself to do it!”

“Okay, Jethro, okay.”

Silence filled the vehicle for the rest of their drive to the cabin. Neither daring to speak about their fears or worries. Both actually relieved to be leaving that mass grave behind.

Once in front of the cabin both he and Fornell exited their vehicle and made their approach. Relieved to see that two other units had made it to the cabin ahead of them. At least their agents had proper back up inside.

Opening the door and entering Gibbs halted instantly tensing as his eyes roamed the Entrance Hall. Fornell opened his mouth to question what had caught his attention when his eyes also fell on the room. After several moments Fornell broke the tense silence, “Well this just keeps getting creepier and creepier.”

“Uh yeah.”

“Who the hell is this guy?”

Turning abruptly away from the room ignoring Tobias’ question he set out in search of his young agent finding the hall lined in old animal traps unnerving to say the least and relieved when McGee greeted him providing a briefing of what had transpired before their arrival, “We cleared the place. Found no trace that anyone was here or that anyone has been here in some time. We’re still examining the cabin but haven’t found much…”

“Until now Agent Gibbs,” added Agent Ferris morosely.

Looking at McGee expectantly the young agent continued, “Found some computer equipment, recording device, electronic voice scrambler, things like that…”

“Okay why request us?”

“Actually insist that we come here, Agent McGee?”

“Well as I said we found little out here, but…”

“We’re still examining the cabin. It looked clean for the most part, until we got to one of the bedrooms.”

“One?”

“Oh there’s more than one.”

“It’s a big cabin, boss.”

Glaring at McGee the man quickly shifted turning towards the bedroom as he said, “Right. Uh follow me.”

They followed him and Ferris into the room as they directed them towards a closet. Puzzled now both older men waited. McGee answered the unasked question, “The dimensions of the room didn’t exactly match, so we started looking around for false doors, random air vents things like that and...”

Ferris continued where McGee left off, “We found a little extra addition to the room.” Looking at McGee and sharing a nod Ferris entered the closet offering a simple, “Welcome to the bat cave, gentlemen,” before reaching above his head and twisting the clothing rod which instantly triggered a hidden panel to slide open exposing the room beyond. 

Stepping into the room first Ferris tossed over his shoulder, “Whoever he is, he’s been following your team for some time, Agent Gibbs,” indicating the walls of the room. 

Gibbs entered and halted feeling suddenly ill as he gazed at the walls. One of them was covered in pictures of his team, the center wall was devoted strictly to Tony and on the third wall were three distinct photographs lined up horizontally: Him, Anthony DiNozzo and Abigail Scuito.

Fornell looked at them too as he said, “His targets, you think?”

Tim commented while pointing to the second wall, “Boss, these photos of Tony go back several years. They’re from crime scenes, his home, his personal life… They were watching him for some time.”

Fornell added, “These photos of the team appear to be more recent.”

Gibbs answered, “Tony was their primary target…”

“But why?” asked McGee.

Gibbs continued as if he hadn’t heard him, “…once they captured him they directed their focus onto us.”

Agent Ferris interrupted, “Uh boss?”

“Yes Agent Ferris,” responded Fornell before approaching him. His agent proceeded to pull a desk drawer further open pulling out a file folder he opened it and answered, “This looks like a dossier…on Agent DiNozzo.”

Fornell glanced at it before focusing on other files in the drawer tensing as he continued, “These are dossiers on every member of your team, Gibbs, _including_ Doctor Mallard, Mister Palmer and Miss Scuito.”

“He was studying us.”

Agent Ferris spoke up again, “But the folder that looks like it was handled the most…”

Gibbs focused on the one in his hand verses the others still in the drawer before continuing, “Was Tony’s… He was actively targeting Tony.”

McGee interrupted then, “Why? Why him? Why not you or Ziva or…”

Fornell answered those questions casually stating, “Because he holds the team together. Remove him from the equation and your team falls apart at the seams. It’s a perfect revenge plan, remove a vital member that not only helps keep the team together but is important to Gibbs…”

“And watch the rest of the team fall into ruin,” continued Ferris.

Gibbs’ head shot up as he focused on his friend aware that the comments were indeed very accurate and if someone wanted to destroy him…

Fornell continued as if reading his thoughts, “What better way to gain revenge on you then to destroy what means the most to you: your _team_.”

“No…” denied McGee.

“Yes.”

“He’s my _Senior Field Agent_ , McGee. He’s the one I rely on to train the team, to step up and lead if I’m out of commission. He’s the one I rely on the most. I expect more from him than either of you, than even Cait. Tony is my second. If something were to happen to the Director and me then who do you think the leadership of NCIS would fall to until we're back?”

“I don’t know. I never really thought about it. I mean you’re both always there so…”

Fornell answered again, “DiNozzo. It would fall to DiNozzo. Take out the Director and his Senior Agent the next in line to step up and take charge is the Senior Agent’s highest ranking team member.”

Ferris continued, “Which in your agency would be Anthony DiNozzo.”

“That is why you are only my temporary SFA until I either get Tony back or…”

“Replace him.”

“Yes. You still have learning to do. You still don’t know everything you need to know to even be an SFA. You have a lot more to learn before that happens. If the three of us are removed from the agency that leaves the next person in line for the leadership to fall to Agent Balboa. _Until_ you are fully trained you can only step up to lead my team, not the entire agency. Tony, on the other hand, can step up when either I or Vance are out of commission.”

“So what does that have to do with him being targeted?”

“If they studied us as in depth as it appears it means a hell of a lot, McGee.”

“Meaning?”

“They _chose_ Tony because of his connection to me and his status and position on the team. They singled him out.”

“But why?”

“Because he’s one of _my_ weaknesses, Tim,” remembering their earlier conversation with Director Vance he continued, “He’s one of the chinks in my armor.”

“What?”

Fornell answered, “To get to Gibbs, to hurt him the most all one would have to do is target his team…”

“Or more specifically Agent DiNozzo or Miss Scuito.”

McGee shifted nervously from foot to foot aware that though he wanted to deny those two were far more important to Gibbs than he or Ziva, he couldn’t. They had been with him the longest as well as Doctor Mallard. It was only natural he would feel more affectionate towards them than any other team member. It was one of the things he always strove to be: just as important as Tony and Abby.

As if reading his thoughts Gibbs said, “You are important Tim.”

“But Tony and Abby are more important to _you_.”

Gibbs said nothing making everyone feel suddenly distinctly uncomfortable. Fornell was quick to dispel it with, “Save the drama for another time. We have a serious problem we need to be focusing on. You still have a _missing agent_ and we still need to _find him_.”

“Yes. McGee, did you get through the whole cabin?”

“No. We stopped when we found this room.”

“Okay continue going through it. See what else we can find and expect to find more.”

“Why more boss?”

“He has a _bone yard_ on his property, McGee. There most likely is more to find.”

“Uh right, boss. Got it.”

McGee quickly left. Both men watching as he did. Once he was gone Fornell casually commented, “You know it’s your fault, right?”

“What, Tobias, what?”

“You set your team up to compete against one another. You at times show favoritism to the ones who don’t deserve it and shun the ones that do…”

“You referring to the way I run my team, Tobias?”

“You know that you’re partially to blame for his abduction, right?”

Wanting to snap but knowing Tobias was right he muttered, “Think about it every damned day.”

“You can’t keep running your team the way you’ve been, _especially_ if you get him back.”

“What are you saying?”

“You know what I’m saying. You let your junior agents run all over your senior agent. You isolate him and intentionally make him feel he’s never good enough. The truth is he’s the best damned agent you have and if you keep treating him the way you do you WILL lose him.”

“Tony’s…”

“Loyal yes but you were driving him to burnout before he was taken, Gibbs. You try to treat all of them as if they are equal, but they are not. DiNozzo is _Senior Field Agent_ and in this field that actually MEANS SOMETHING. He shouldn’t have to compete against junior agents, _especially_ ones you expect him to train. They need to learn to respect him as much, if not more, than they respect you. If you keep running your team like you’ve been I’ve no doubt you _**WILL**_ lose him, and no one will blame him for leaving.”

“What…what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Everyone can see it, Gibbs, even your _Director_ has noticed.”

“What?”

“How badly you treat your SFA. None of us understand why he remains. He’s a damned good agent, one of the best, yet remains with a team that doesn’t even respect him. You need to take a long hard look at yourself and at the others on your team and decide which is more important: having them all compete like they’re in some sporting event or having them learn to actually FUNCTION as a proper team. The first thing you need to do is drill into them that as SFA he gets as much, if not more respect than you and when he speaks they damned well **need** to listen. Putting him down, criticizing him, deliberately going out of your way to praise the junior agents while ignoring your senior agent, turning your back when they disrespect him, allowing them to _harass_ him about things they know damned well will bother him is no way to run a team, Gibbs, and you damned well should know that. You need to get your damned head out of your ass and actually look at what occurs on that team. It needs to end, especially if you want him back.”

Gritting his teeth he managed a relatively calm, “Working on it, Tobias.”

“Well good. It’s about damned time!”

Growling softly his gaze shifted again to the middle wall eyes slowly combing across the images of his still missing SFA. Without thought he softly demanded, “Where the hell are you, Tony?”

Fornell hearing the question, aware of how much turmoil his friend was presently in, opted to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing it and softly asking Ferris to give them a moment.

****

_Abyei, North Sudan_

He had unfortunately been detained for several days dealing with moving more of their military onto the base. He had returned early this morning but was sidetracked with numerous things throughout the day. It wasn’t until now that he was able to break away. Knowing he _had_ to check on him he quickly made his way towards his cell. All too aware that Akeem had far too much time to reap his revenge on Gibbs by targeting his SFA during his unavoidable absence.

Upon entering he cursed. Fucking Akeem! Watching as the man struggled to lift his head and turn towards him he made his approach, lowering before him and gently lifting his chin.

Tony tried to jerk away but was too tired to put up much of a fight. He had heard the man enter his cell and at the back of his mind registered that he was familiar, someone he needed to be on his guard around. The position he was in, however, combined with the lack of food and water and the sheer pain that filled him being secured as such caused disorientation and confusion. He’d lick his lips if he could but the filthy gag shoved haphazardly in his mouth prevented it and sucked the moisture right out. Unable to stop his reaction to the sudden tickling in his throat he coughed around the gag dropping his head heavily against the familiar hand holding it up.

Vaguely he heard the man say something about Akeem and barbaric before he gently worked the gag out of his mouth muttering about making it easier for him to breath and that he’d be back. Tony was relieved to feel the gag being removed and aware that it did ease his breathing some but that was all that registered in his mind before he slipped away yet again.

The colonel proceeded to examine both secured wrists cursing when he saw that the chain was cutting deeply into both and his hands were damned near pale white, evidence that blood circulation had slowed to them. He also quite literally hung by his arms, head damned near touching the ground in his presently doubled over position. The floor was no doubt murder on his knees as well as there appeared to be nothing cushioning them at all. There was no way he would stand for this! The bastard would suffer for injuring what was HIS so severely. 

Storming off in search of Akeem he snarled upon finding him and ordered, “My office, immediately!”

“Sir, I was not expecting…”

“NOW.”

“Yes sir.”

Once in his office he turned on him railing, “How many times do I need to tell you? You take your revenge out on Gibbs NOT his SFA! _Gibbs_ , Akeem NOT Anthony DiNozzo! He is **MINE**!”

“Sir…”

“I have been away only a few days and in that amount of time you have damned near killed him! I told you he is to be kept fed and hydrated! I also told you to cease the sadistic stress positions! If you permanently damage him I will kill you, Akeem!”

“Sir you are…”

“NO! I do not want to hear your excuses. You will go in there right now and remove those chains! If you insist on keeping him secured in such a barbaric fashion then you will use adequate and humane _foam padding_ under the cuffs or _hospital restraints_. Not chain. The damned things are practically embedded in his wrists!”

“He is fine.”

“He is… **He belongs to me** , Akeem, and you will do as I say! If you cannot follow simple orders you will be placed in the stocks, deal or no deal! I _will not_ have him damaged by your obsession with destroying his boss! I have told you Leroy Jethro Gibbs is fair game for you. I have granted you permission, even aided you in gaining revenge on him. I did not, and WILL NOT, permit you to continue using his SFA as your primary target. You want Gibbs so badly you go after HIM, _not_ his SFA. Anthony DiNozzo Junior belongs to me! He is **MINE**! You will cease using him to get your petty revenge on his bastard boss! Is that understood?”

“Sir he…”

“Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir. Understood.”

“Good. Now get in there and get him out of those crude restraints before I choose to CHAIN you up like that and leave you to die! Got it?”

“Yes, yes sir.”

“The gag also cannot and WILL NOT be used all of the time.”

“Sir you cannot…”

“We need him **alive**. In case you were unaware Akeem he has damaged lungs. If you insist and persist on gagging him you must give him breaks. I will not have him dying on us because of your gross negligence. He needs to get to the doctor and be assessed as well. You will do as I say or you will find yourself facing disciplinary action. Is that understood?”

Paling he licked his lips nervously before nodding and muttering, “Uh, um yes, yes sir.”

“Get him out of those restraints NOW.”

“Yes sir. Right away sir.”

“And DO NOT let him collapse! You _will_ cushion his arms as you release them. I will not have shoulder dislocation added to your list of crimes perpetrated against what belongs to me! You damage him severely and I will damage you! Now GO!”

“Yes, yes sir!”

Akeem exited the room and headed towards the cell of one Anthony DiNozzo cursing the whole way. Obviously the bastard colonel was more than just interested in him. He was _obsessed_. Apparently he gravely misjudged how much leash the colonel was willing to give him in regards to his ultimate prey. Unlocking the door to his cell he entered glaring at the man who even now hung by his arms, on his knees apparently very much unconscious. _Foam padding or hospital restraints?_ The colonel was getting soft in his old age!

Shaking his head he set about doing as commanded refusing to do much more than remove the wrist restraints and secure the medical ones in place. The doctor could clean his wrists when he examined him again. He noticed the man barely reacted as he was re-secured in place. Once done he exited his cell fighting the urge to shove that gag back in his mouth and sought out the doctor to inform him of his orders.

Upon entering he saw the colonel abruptly leave. The doctor nodded in greeting before saying, “I expect Antonio on my table _within_ the hour. You will bring him to me immediately.”

“He is unresponsive and…”

“ _Bring him to me_ , Akeem.”

“Yes, yes sir.”

Cursing again he returned to the man’s cell and waved smelling salts under his nose. Tony jerked abruptly awake hissing, choking back his scream as he attempted to lift his head. Akeem snapped, “You have an appointment with the doctor, Anthony. It is far passed time for you to get your daily checkup and cleanse.”

Tony mustered up enough energy and strength to coldly glare at the bastard presently undoing his restraints. As both arms were released Akeem coldly ordered, “You will stand on your own or you will be punished for disobedience.”

Licking his lips he drew in his bottom one and gently bit into it before trying to rise on command. As his arms began to quiver from their unexpected release Akeem lowered before him grinning wickedly as he taunted, “Please do me a big favor and fail that command for me, Anthony. I am just _itching_ to begin our next session.”

Tony offered the bastard a deadly glare wanting so much to snap at him, but finding most of his energy was being siphoned off to keep himself upright. Slowly, and with great trepidation he pushed himself up and onto his feet gritting his teeth as the strain on his body from the sudden transition nearly dropped him to his knees once more.

Akeem reached out to gently pat his cheek as he softly taunted, “You know if walking is too much for you I can always leash you and make you crawl to the doctor like a good little bitch.”

Tony sneered replying, “You’re a real dick, Akeem.”

Pushing him violently he commanded, “MOVE!”

Tony stumbled forward unable to stop his inevitable crash to the floor. Akeem chuckled as he leaned down, grabbed a chunk of his hair and yanked his head back forcing him to look upwards as he said, “Oh goody I get to punish you for failure once more, Anthony.”

The door suddenly flew open and the colonel entered taking in their present positions he commanded, “I told you to take him to the doctor not beat him further, Akeem!”

Akeem instantly released his grip as if burned, ignoring the painful cry that elicited forth from Tony’s mouth as he nearly collapsed again from the force of it, briefly stuttering his words before managing, “Si…sir it, he… Sir he…”

“ENOUGH! I will take him.”

“Sir you…”

“I will take him. You will not interfere. Understood?”

“But sir you cannot…”

Lowering to the floor the colonel gently braced Tony and helped him stand much to Tony’s confusion. He had obviously missed something for this was just a bit too strange for his liking.

The colonel turned glowering at Akeem before snarling, “You will report to me immediately after I return from the doctor, and we _will_ be having _another_ discussion, Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.”

Okay. He definitely had missed something. Shaking his head he tensed as the colonel proceeded to lash his wrists firmly together in front of him. Flexing both hands as they began to tingle it was then that he noticed his restraints. Were they _medical restraints_? Eyes scanning, he could only shake his head and mentally question _what the hell?_ The colonel then proceeded to grasp him about the elbow and guide him to the door. What _exactly_ was going on?

Akeem snapped, “Sir!”

“What?”

“The blindfold, you cannot…”

The colonel held up a hood as he focused on Tony and said, “I am afraid it is policy, Agent DiNozzo, but not to worry. It is only temporary,” with that said he carefully pulled the hood down over Tony’s head, tugging it about his neck before opening the door and urging him forward informing, “Not to worry, I have no desire to cause you further injury. I will guide you safely to the doctor.”

Tony swallowed hard refusing to admit he hated the hood even more than the blindfold. The thing was suffocating and thick. It conformed a bit too comfortably to the contours of his face and provided no openings for his eyes or mouth. Without hesitation he reached up to tug at it the colonel quickly yanking his hands away and urging him forward again. He inhaled sharply, nearly in a panic. The colonel's hold on his arm tightened and as the door clicked shut behind them he quietly, in a near whisper, ordered, “I know it is uncomfortable, but I need you to cooperate. I assure you it is only temporary and will be removed shortly. Right now I need you to _breathe_."

The reassurance from the colonel was no comfort at all. After all the man’s goal _was_ to break him, and he had to notice the sudden tension within him upon securing the hood firmly in place. All he had to do was refuse to remove the damned thing and he’d probably panic outright.

The colonel gently tugged his arm again saying, “Walk forward. We are in the hallway now. There is no one else around.”

_Right._

Attempting to draw in a calming breath he took a shaky step forward, stumbling and vaguely aware of a hand suddenly pressing firmly against his mid-back offering support. The colonel waited relieved when he regained his balance then said, “You have been led by the arm before. This is no different.”

_Wrong! This was so much worse than being led when blindfolded! How far did they have to travel to get to that damned doctor?_

The colonel as if reading his thoughts spoke firmly, “Calm yourself and breathe. I will not have your breathing compromised due to panic. I need you to breathe and continue to walk,” urging him forward again.

Squeezing his eyes shut and focusing on drawing in simple breaths he soon lost track of how fast or what direction they were moving. Halting abruptly when the colonel stopped, the unexpected arm still bracing him, as he was informed “We are almost there. I need you to step over the board in front of you.”

Slowly, with great trepidation he complied and started as the door clicked shut behind him. The colonel then worked on carefully pulling the hood up over his head as he said, “There just as I said. You are safely to the doctors, and we WILL NOT be using this infernal thing on you again.”

Confused by what sounded like concern in the colonel’s voice Tony blinked his eyes several times as they adjusted to the semi-dim interior of the waiting room. The colonel continued, “Now you will remain here, you will stand at proper attention and you will wait until the doctor is ready to see you.”

Gaping at him for several moments, ignoring the subtle quivering of his limbs he shook his head. _He was kidding right?_ “You _are_ kidding right?”

The colonel offered a mischievous smirk prompting him to add, “You’re…insane, Colonel. Lucky I’m still even upright…stand at attention. Yeah right... Crazy bastard.”

The colonel chuckled before turning and entering the doctor’s inner office. Tony grumbled mumbling about practical jokers unaware that he was wavering even more and startling violently as unfamiliar arms suddenly braced him from behind. Turning, he instantly regretted the move as a headache slammed into him driving him to his knees. Expecting the impact he braced for it again thrown off guard as the arms around him tightened further. 

“What?”

Not realizing he spoke that question aloud he was once again surprised as an unfamiliar voice spoke, “Whoa, whoa you need to hold still, Agent DiNozzo, you are much too disoriented.”

“Who…?”

“I guard the door. Was here the last time the colonel escorted you.”

“I don’t…”

“Hush we need to get you seated. You are much too weak to be upright.”

“No. I…”

“The colonel commanded it of me should you need it.”

“’m fine.”

A familiar voice came back from across the room, “You are most definitely not _fine_.”

Mouth forming a little pout he snapped back, “Am too!” hating the weakness consuming him and only vaguely aware of being physically passed from unfamiliar hands into familiar ones as the newest voice raised demanding, “I will need you to assess him out here, doctor.”

The doctor entered the waiting room and took in the scene. Shaking his head he muttered, “And again you look a mess, Antonio.”

“Nice to see you too, Doc,” came the weak gripe.

The doctor exchanged a concerned look with the colonel who was presently holding his patient upright. As Tony seemed to regain his balance and managed to get his legs firmly beneath him the colonel nodded at the doctor to proceed. Tony hearing the approach momentarily flinched and backed into the colonel who said, “You are such a stubborn bastard. Will you relax and allow the doctor to examine you as he must?”

“’M…”

“Fine, yes so you like to say when you are obviously not well at all. Can you stand on your own?”

“What?”

Sighing he rolled his eyes before repeating the question, “Can you stand on your own or shall I continue to hold you upright?”

“’M…”

“You say fine, Agent DiNozzo, and I will deliberately release you just to prove that you are not.”

It was Tony’s turn to sigh huffing in frustration as he managed, “Ass… Yeah ‘m good now.”

“Forgive me for not believing you. I shall remain here to brace you if the room should suddenly decide it would like to spin on you once more.”

“Gee thanks, Colonel, so nice…of you.”

“Hush. Be silent and allow the doctor to work.”

“Hmm…weird place...conduct work...”

"So it is. Now hush and cooperate."

The doctor waited for the nod from the colonel who took two steps back from his stubborn prisoner remaining in range to catch him should his legs decide to crumple beneath him once more.

Shortly thereafter he was approached and corralled by the doctor who hmm’ed before pushing his loose fitting pants down lower on his hips informing, “You will need sustenance again. You are much, much too rawboned. Our friend has been much more domineering this week I see. The colonel is right. You are much too thin, much too dehydrated. We will fix that as well, my dear sweet Antonio.”

Unable to resist, he tersely replied “Gee aren’t you a blinding ray of sunshine, Doc?”

Sharing another concerned look with the colonel he automatically leaned forward as his patient wavered unsteadily yet again. Seeing the colonel step in closer in preparation to catch the weakened man if needs be he released a tense breath and carefully placed hands on either side of his hips, right at the bone points, rubbing gently with fingertips as he continued, “The ilium is too sharply defined...” before proceeding to slowly slide his hands up his sides before drawing them closer splaying them across the center of his chest slightly above his stomach and running those same fingertips across his lower ribs continuing his assessment, “And I can feel the bones jutting out from the lower half of your rib cage. You have lost much too much weight this last week, Antonio. We cannot have that. We must get your calorie intake back up again.”

“Hmm sure…can do that. No prob…Doc.”

Ignoring the comment he relaxed only slightly when the colonel moved in to gently brace his patient. Antonio was fading quickly, seemingly unaware that the colonel was once again supporting him. Reaching up he gently grasped his chin, tilting his head to the right then left before informing, “You are quite noticeably exhausted…”

“Obvious’ly…”

“And severely dehydrated as well. Your lips are cracked and bleeding, skin dry and flushed, cheeks sunken in some…”

Releasing his face he turned to the colonel and addressed him informing, “He will need recovery time again. I will keep him here longer to give you a full assessment of his present condition.”

“I want a thorough examination conducted, doctor, along with a complete listing of all of his present injuries. Is that understood?”

“Yes, colonel.”

“Good. I will be unreachable for the next several days…”

The doctor jerked his head upwards staring intently at the colonel, lips pursed as he bit back the desire to snap at him for his stupidity. If he left again then Antonio would once again be susceptible to the now revenge-crazed Akeem. Reading the worry in his expression he added, “If I return only to find out that Akeem has secured him with those chains again I will send him to the brig. I do not want him secured with anything other than medical restraints until further notice. Is that understood, doctor?”

“Colonel…”

“Is _that_ understood?”

Glaring at his friend he bit out, “Yes, Colonel, only medical restraints until further notice.”

“Good. I expect a full, detailed, _accurate_ report on his present condition. Do not dare slack.”

“You know that I will not...! You, however…”

All three startled as the door suddenly flew open admitting an obviously very inattentive person who was unaware he had interrupted anything until the colonel coldly snarled, “We are not to be disturbed!”

The trespasser jerked his head up, eyes widening as he focused on first the colonel, then the doctor, before his gaze settled and rested upon the patient. Scanning the third and seeing the restraints he realized that he was a prisoner and immediately apologized. He then quickly turned to leave the room intent on getting away as fast as he was able. The colonel, however, halted his retreat as he sharply ordered, “Captain, I trust you remember protocol?”

“Yes, yes sir.”

“Good. You will guard the outside of this door until I am ready to leave. No one is to enter.”

“Yes, yes sir.”

“You will also forget what you have seen here.”

“Ye…yes, sir.”

As quickly as he entered he slipped out of the room drawing in a calming breath as he realized just what he had intruded upon. He knew the man in the room by reputation, and the stories the others had told of him were outright horrifying. For some reason he never visualized him looking as he did and knew that just by seeing his face as clearly as he had that he was in danger of vanishing. It was said any who saw the colonel’s face clearly never lived long enough to describe him in any kind of detail. He usually wore items that distorted his looks, hoods to conceal his facial features, make up that covered distinguishing marks and only revealed himself fully to a select few. It was one of the reasons he was so hard to track down and capture. One couldn’t capture a man who was a veritable ghost now could they?

As for the prisoner? His fate was most likely sealed for as far as he knew the colonel never willingly permitted _anyone_ to see his true face. The fact that the prisoner wore no blindfold told him that he had most likely seen enough of it to adequately describe him. The knowledge he held was very dangerous, of course knowing that he was a political prisoner of great value meant that his fate was already sufficiently sealed. He would remain a guest with them for many years so perhaps that is why the colonel didn’t seem as cautious around him?

Shaking his head he swallowed hard determined to make a break for it as soon as he was able. Hopefully the stories he had heard were truly _just that_ , tales made up to frighten and intimidate, or he was most likely looking at a very short life.

The guard inside the room started heading for the door the colonel halting him with a sharp, persistent, “I need you to remain.”

He looked puzzled as the colonel continued, “In case you have not yet realized it our visitor here is a very stubborn individual. He is also suffering from the effects of long-term starvation and severe dehydration. We may need to carry him into the office for the doctor to continue his exam.”

Tony rolled his eyes as he protested, “Not that weak, Colonel, just a little dizzy.”

The colonel turned back focusing intently on him offering a simple, “Mmm.”

“I’m…”

Holding up his right hand he proceeded to list a condition and hold up a finger for each firmly announcing, “Dizzy, confused, unfocused, shaky, underweight, dehydrated, starved, lethargic to name but a few and oh, let’s not forget: _totally exhausted_ … Shall I continue to list your ailments for you, Agent DiNozzo, or would you like to persist in stating that you are ‘just fine’?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Mmm so I am, and you are in denial.”

_"What?”_

Oh for… “Please _allow_ the doctor to do his JOB.”

“You’re…”

The colonel impulsively pressed the raised fingers gently against Tony’s lips as he continued, “You will hush and permit the doctor to do his job. You will also be drinking plenty of fluids as your voice is yet again cracking the longer you speak.”

Tony glowered at the man huffing in frustration. As he removed his hand Tony snarled, “Put those fingers against my mouth again, Colonel, and I’ll chomp them off.”

“Hmm of that I have no doubt…”

The doctor continued to watch finding the exchange somewhat disturbing, but also a bit amusing as well. The guard could only continue to stare and gape having never seen _anyone_ ever banter and insult the colonel and _not_ get severely punished for it. The two continued to share a hostile glare with one another until Agent DiNozzo’s reserves of strength seemed to finally give out. The moment he began to collapse the colonel instantly reacted already actively bracing him. Stopping his rapid descent, he quickly slid his other arm underneath the no longer protesting man’s knees drawing him upwards into his arms and cradling him like a mere child his expression grim. 

The doctor seeing it simply chose that moment to make a point, “And _this_ is exactly why you should not LEAVE!”

The colonel looked up at his friend pursing his lips as he responded with an abrupt, “You have been wanting to say that since I brought him in here.”

“YES! And you know that I am right!”

“And I _have_ to leave again.”

The doctor assessed him before simply informing, “Then you must accept that at some point he will go much, _much_ too far.”

“Perhaps.”

“He is strong, Colonel, but even the strongest have their limits.”

“And that is why he has you.”

Shaking his head the doctor opted to change the topic aware that this was not the place to have this particular discussion. “Help me get him into one of the rooms.”

Nodding he carried the now unconscious man into the nearest empty room, settled him gently on the table and stepped back to allow the doctor to continue his work.

**

_Grantsville, Maryland_

Ziva was highly distracted. She was both upset and disturbed by the discovery of the bone yard. No one would say it, of course, but she couldn’t help _thinking_ it: what if one of those bodies was _Tony_? 

She wanted to deny that possibility, was certain none of them were, but couldn’t help wondering. She would _know_ if he was dead. None of those bodies were him she was certain…but if one of them was? It would be all her fault. 

She felt physically ill at the prospect, knowing that if it were the case then it would be a natural consequence of trusting too much. She had _trusted_ Samina, and it had led to her partner being set up for abduction. It was _her_ fault that he was taken, and though Gibbs had assured her that it most definitely was not, the fact remained that had she been less gullible, more focused, more _suspicious_ than none of this would have ever happened.

Shaking her head she forced her mind to quiet making herself focus on the task at hand. However, her attention was most definitely not on the death pit before her. Her mind was on her missing partner, on what he quite possibly was suffering through as well as on her own version of the hell she had experienced in the not so distant past. Her mind was set on dark stuffy rooms with little ventilation, endless hours of solitude and silence, interspersed with persistent questions and hours of repeated abuse. Her mind was set on the countless hours she had prepared for her own demise, preparing to accept that it would be so, that her end was indeed near…

_“You tell Saleem everything he wants to hear… I am ready to die.”_

She had told him that as he sat across from her likewise bound, and he had refused to listen. He had refused to jeopardize “the plan” having enough faith and determination for both of them. She had never expected to see him again, had been so certain that like her father they would also forget her. Forget her and move on…but they hadn’t. _He hadn’t._

Shaking her head she turned abruptly away from the events occurring before her, attention now focused beyond the gruesome hole in the ground. The longer she gazed beyond it the more certain she became that she was seeing…something. Was that a structure of some sort?

Cocking her head to the left she started a slow approach walking around the pit and heading in the direction of the unknown structure. As she did she could hear the voices of the others begin to fade and drop out altogether. Cautiously she continued on, eyes widening as she began to notice other odd structures. Abby had said that this place had been some sort of a zoo or safari park at one time, hadn’t she?

Pausing before the first twisted overgrown structure she examined it. It was a cage with an old pool in the center of it surmounted in the back by what looked like carved rock face. A bear cage perhaps? Shaking her head she moved around its perimeters noting that the cage was fairly intact despite the various kinds of plant life attempting to choke it out. Coming to the back of it she abruptly stopped eyes taking in the strange stone path twisting abruptly to the left and winding into darkness. She wondered where it led. Curious she decided to follow it and started down it. Soon she was tensing as she came to a wall of shrubbery that was both very tall and thickly overgrown. The roots were gnarled, curling into the stone path pushing several of the rocks up at odd angles, while dropping off in several other places. 

Turning around she was surprised she could no longer see the old bear cage. Perhaps she should turn back? Focusing intently down the path that she had just traversed she was surprised at just how dark and ominous it now appeared. It was also much narrower than she had first realized. Why hadn’t she noticed that when she had first stumbled across it? 

Shaking her head she turned forward noting how the path seemed to stretch out endlessly before her, and the shrubs seemed to converge further down as a second thick wall of them shot up on the opposite side of the same path. Narrowing her eyes, squinting, she tried to see what lay beyond. Unable to discern much of anything she started walking again soon becoming all too aware of how quickly the path was narrowing further, the shrubs on either side feeling more like walls converging, closing in, attempting to trap those who dared to journey so deeply within. The path also gradually flagged changing from stone to gravel to dirt. Taking a few more steps she suddenly halted shivering as a feeling of being trapped in a maze and corralled to a center point filled her. No zoo that she could ever recall had a path like this, but she knew what did and she unconsciously shuddered as her mind tossed those memories to the forefront: training grounds, Mossad training grounds.

She listened. Senses honed. Body tense. Ready to fight or flee as the situation merited. Turning back she again noticed just how DARK the path behind her was. It was broad daylight but here on this trail in what felt like a veritable maze she was certain many could, probably did, get lost. She should turn back, knew it would be best but curiosity won out. She chose to continue on cautiously. Her steps no longer so sure. She faltered. Eyes now actively scanning: the ground, the shrubs, _everything_. Taking another step forward she felt the earth shift and quickly yanked her foot back. Scrabbling for her flashlight while actively trying to ignore the loud crash that preceded. Flashlight in hand, she shined it frantically in front of her. Stilling the beam. Swallowing hard. The area she had just stepped on was now an inky fathomless black. She ignored the sudden chill skating up her spine. Shaking her head, drawing in a calming breath, she aimed the beam downwards. Where her foot had been mere moments ago now existed a narrow gaping hole seemingly carved, dug into the ground. If she had followed through with that step…

Dismissing those thoughts she lowered to her knees proceeding to slowly pan the flashlight beam across each wall noting there appeared to be sheer rock face on all sides. If one had fallen in they wouldn’t be able to climb back out…unless they had rope or a possible ladder. It was obviously man-made and had quite obviously been _deliberately_ concealed. Anyone not paying attention would fall right in. The hole was deep, the space much, much too compact. Any movement once in there would be minimal at best. If someone wasn’t found and had no other way out except to climb or rely on another person to help…then they would die a very slow death.

Swallowing hard she stood back up dusting off her knees and debating if she should either move on, turn around or call Gibbs. Pulling out her phone she was sadly not surprised to see that she had no signal. Someone had obviously went through a lot of effort to design a path leading to what amounted to a death trap. Why then would they design it in an area with adequate phone coverage? 

Shivering she settled on turning back. This time she kept her flashlight firmly in hand, on and constantly panning across the entire area around and in front of her. It wasn’t long before the beam trailed across a pattern carved into the shrubbery. Shining the light directly on it she noted it appeared to be a deep alcove, one she hadn’t noticed prior. Interesting. She wondered if it was a marker of some sort, perhaps an indicator that danger lay ahead. Choosing to move forward she soon felt oddly out of place. She _had_ come this way, she was certain but… Shining the light downward her eyes widened: red brick lie beneath her feet. _Red brick_? But hadn’t it been stone? Twisting around to look behind her she felt suddenly very uneasy. Nothing looked even remotely familiar, but she was certain she had never strayed from the original path.

Nearly in a panic now her first instinct was to run fast towards the bit of light she swore was just up ahead, but her instincts were shouting at her to calm down, reassess and refocus. Slowly, with great patience, she calmed her breathing and closed her eyes. Upon calming she once again opened them. She noticed almost instantly the red brick trail was directly to her right, and the slightly familiar rocky path she had been on previously was ahead and behind her. The red brick path led to the light she had noticed upon panicking and she sensed that it was a trap, one that some no doubt took the bait for. Should she follow to see where it led or…?

Drawing out her phone she pressed the side button to make it light up noting she still had no signal and barely twenty minutes had passed by since the discovery of that ominous pit several yards? Meters? She was unsure how far she had traversed back. She should go back. She really should but curiosity was driving her, luring her to take the path less traveled. Without conscious thought she found herself starting down the brick path. Suddenly aware of what she was doing she halted, turned around and tensed. The realization filtering in. Okay. She _needed_ to turn around. NOW. The path was too dangerous, no doubt designed to be much more attractive than the one she had started out on. But why the deceit? Why the obvious lure down a much neater, much newer path? Shivering she realized she really didn’t want to know the answer to that question. Certain she now knew what this whole thing _actually_ was.

Determined now she got back on the main path and headed out relieved to see the back of the now semi-familiar bear cage and jumping as her phone rang. Seeing who it was she answered simply stating, “They are hunting grounds. I am certain.”

“What? Ziva, where are you? You weren’t answering your phone and the others said you wandered off.”

Needing him to hear, to understand what she was saying she interrupted emphasizing, “They are HUNTING GROUNDS, Gibbs.”

“Ziva what…?”

“I found a path. I followed it. It led to a _death trap_ , Gibbs. A deep, narrow hole in the ground. When I turned around heading back I stumbled across another path. The urge to follow it was… I wanted to, but I did not. I am certain that it led to…”

“Ziva, I don’t…”

“In Mossad we had training grounds, much like your shooting galleries. Designed to make us think quick on our feet, prepare us to expect _anything_. All are required to complete the courses. This is very similar only I do not believe their purpose is to train. You do not kill or seek to kill those you are attempting to train. I believe the owner of this place designed his own hunting grounds. The death pit we found would support that theory.”

“Ziva…”

“I am certain of this, Gibbs. We have stumbled onto someone’s hunting grounds…”

She waited for him to contradict her unable to speak as his only response was, “Then I think we may have stumbled upon his command center. Ziva, I need you to get back with the others. NO ONE is to journey beyond that pit. You hear me? No exploring, no following paths…you all finish working that scene then get your asses back to headquarters. Understood?”

“Gibbs, what has happened?”

“Is that understood, Agent David?”

“Yes, yes understood.”

“Good…and Ziva make sure everyone actually stays together. Not sure what this place is, but I’m not liking the things we’re discovering.”

“You have found something at the cabin, no?”

Silence stretched between them for several moments before he answered, “Just make sure you all stick together. We’ll talk more about it later.”

“Gibbs…” Too late he had already hung up. Drawing in a calming breath she glanced one last time over the area she had stumbled across and slowly made her way back. The place now feeling even more ominous than it had upon first arriving. 

**

_Grantsville, Maryland_

After ending his call with Ziva he approached Tim who was now in what appeared to be the Master bedroom. He was also presently staring intently at a wall deeply engrossed. Approaching he questioned, “Tim?”

Tim wasn’t sure what they were. They looked like random letters seemingly lined up in neat little rows. They filled the length of one whole section of cabin wall carved into the wood like notches on a bed post used to mark the passage of time. He startled as his boss spoke much closer to him than he realized. As Gibbs repeated his name he responded with an inquiry of his own, “Boss, what do you make of this?”

Moving closer he questioned, “What McGee?”

Pulling the bedroom door further closed he pointed to the section of wall directly behind it repeating, “What do you make of this?”

Gibbs focused on the section of wall McGee had asked him about and had no idea what he was looking at. Was it code or something? It looked like a list of letters all lined up into neat rows and groupings. They were each carved into the wood with fine precision. Continuing to scan them his eyes stopped on the last set that looked newer, fresher than all the others. In fact the pale bare, unstained wood could still be seen peeking through, some of the edges still quite rough. Scanning the set of letters more intensely he swallowed hard. They were carved neatly in the wood as if the one responsible chiseled them in with great care. The edges looking much smoother in the center as if they had been brushed over with fingers repeatedly.

They all seemed vaguely familiar like he should know what they were. Three letters grouped and lined up as if they were… 

Studying the newest carvings he leaned in closer to inspect them feeling a chill work up his spine as his brain started to comprehend just what it was he was seeing: ADD.

Beneath those was a second set of letters: KEJ.

Hesitant to ask but knowing he must he said, “McGee, what was Jakand’s middle name?”

“Uh what?”

“Kaden Jakand did you find a middle name?”

“Uh yeah it was Erol, I think. Why boss?”

“Damn.”

“Boss?”

“It’s a list, McGee.”

“Of what?”

“Names.”

“What?”

“Monograms, McGee, _initials_. It’s a list of his targets and victims.”

“Boss, are you sure? I don’t…”

Pointing to the second set of carved letters Tim asked in confusion, “KEJ?”

“Kaden E. Jakand.”

“But then who is…?”

“ADD?”

Fornell answered that question not liking where this was leading, “Anthony D. DiNozzo.”

“No boss, it can’t…”

“It is.”

“Which means…,” interrupted Fornell. Gibbs finished the statement, “Tony was his target all along not ME.”

“Wait boss, but that would mean…”

“We’ve been looking in the wrong direction, McGee. There’s more going on than we ever realized…”

Fornell continued, “…And someone’s been deliberately distracting us from figuring that out for some time.”

McGee was still stunned by what the two older men had just stated and forced out of a now dry throat, “But…why?”

Gibbs focused on his junior agent answering, “Can you think of a better way to keep your true plans under wraps, McGee?”

“It was a diversion.”

“What was a diversion?”

“Gibbs.”

“I don’t…”

Fornell continued, “He was deliberately misdirecting us. Keeping us from figuring out that Tony was his true target all along.”

“But for what purpose?”

“We haven’t been searching for motives for _wanting_ Tony other than revenge, McGee.”

“And Intel…we were certain that Intel was involved…”

“I believe that’s part of it, but…”

“What does that mean, boss?”

“That Tony is in a hell of a lot more danger than we had first thought, McGee.”

“It means that someone _deliberately_ went out of their way to deter us from realizing who their real target was and bungled up our whole investigation.”

“It’s personal.”

“Therefore the motives we were considering…”

“Don’t mean a damned thing. He _wanted_ to get his hands on Tony and went far out of his way to do so.”

“That’s an indication we’re dealing with a different type of predator overall.”

“Different…”

“This list combined with the bone pit on the property tells you what, Agent McGee?”

Thinking about it he suddenly gasped and paled before mumbling, “Think we’re dealing with a potential serial killer here, boss?”

“Or some other kind of predatory monster, yes.”

Fornell added, “And his next intended target was, _is_ your missing agent. Why do I get the feeling that he’s already successfully acquired him?”

None of them spoke all startling when a new voice said, “Boss?”

Fornell glanced briefly at Gibbs before turning to address his fast approaching agent inquiring, “Yeah?”

Glancing at each man in turn then briefly scanning the carved letters on the wall he swallowed hard as he informed, “Found something else you should probably see.”

“Lead the way.”

Following his agent he watched him as he led him into another bedroom and over to another closet door this one opening into a large walk in. He then pointed down at an odd iron grate set into the center of the floor. Fornell looked at him in question and he continued, “It gets weirder.”

“How?”

Lowering he lifted an eerily recognizable item into his hand continuing, “It’s a padlock, boss. Real weird.”

Shifting from one foot to the other and back again he felt a knot forming in his gut. This was so not good! Approaching, he slowly lowered to peer down through the small metal slats in the locked grate. Unfortunately there was little he could make out due to it appearing so dark beneath them. He couldn’t even tell just how deep the apparent room or basement went. Turning he asked, “Flashlight?”

“Yeah boss here.”

Handing it to Fornell he watched as his boss proceeded to turn it on before shining it down into the grate. As the beam fell across a familiar piece of furniture he swallowed hard saying, “Tell me what you see.”

Following the beam cast by the flashlight he tensed squinting his eyes to make out the shape from the darkness unsure of what he was seeing at first until with a dry mouth he managed, “Is that a _bed_ , boss?”

Fornell looked up into the now paler face of his agent answering, “Looks like. Let’s get this grate open.”

Leaning forward slightly the agent took a big whiff and said, “Don’t smell anything except musk and dirt. Do we really need to…?”

“Investigate it? Yes we do,” drawing in a calming breath Fornell called out, “Gibbs, in here.”

Entering he looked around eyes settling on the now three agents crouched around a closet floor. Unsure of what they were looking at he approached. Seeing the metal grate he silenced his thoughts as he added, “We need to get down there.”

“Yeah, I know.”

They worked at first breaking off the lock before carefully lifting the much heavier than it looked grate. Grunting Fornell snarled, “Think it’s made of iron or steel?”

“Whatever it’s made of I get the sense it was meant to be very difficult to lift or move.”

Fornell looked grim as he answered, “Yeah I was afraid of that.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking, Fornell?”

“That we found someone’s secret chamber of horrors? Yeah, yeah unfortunately I am.”

Neither dared make mention of the list of names they had found carved in the other bedroom.

Once open Fornell leaned slightly forward shining the flashlight around the ceiling of the room and into the room itself before announcing, “No obvious way down.”

McGee spoke then, “It’s an oubliette,” having followed after his boss when Fornell called him in.

“What? What McGee?”

“An oubliette, boss…a form of dungeon that is only accessible by a hole high up in the ceiling. In simpler terms: a room with no way out. They were a common feature in many medieval castles, served as cells for…”

Crushing the horrifying thoughts quickly flying to the surface of his mind Gibbs hissed, “I got it, McGee!”

Unaware of how unsettled his boss was feeling McGee continued, “Never expected to find one in a log cabin, boss…”

" _If_ that’s what this is, McGee.”

That drew McGee’s head up and as his mind started processing what this could imply along with the carved initials in the other room he shakily peered into the hole startling as Fornell announced, “We _need_ to get down there.”

“Well, I can…”

“NO! We wait for a ladder, McGee. No one is to go near that hole _until_ we have a ladder firmly in place. No one, McGee.”

“Yes boss.”

As one unit every person near the hole took a huge step backwards as if suddenly realizing that if they got too close they would ultimately fall to their death as none of them knew just _how deep_ that hole was.

Soon a ladder was brought in and lowered into the hole. They all swallowed hard as it extended to its maximum length before hitting bottom. McGee was the first to speak, a slight tremor in his voice as he did, “Boss, that ladder is at least _twenty-four feet_ in length.”

Swallowing hard one of the other agents tensely informed, “Found it in one of the other rooms…”

Everyone shuddered at that announcement. More discouraged by that information, and the realization of just how long the ladder was, Gibbs managed, “Yeah I got that McGee.”

One of Fornell’s agents interrupted asking, “How would they even get someone down there?”

No one jumped in with an answer, instead an unsettling silence fell throughout the room. All deliberately trying hard to avoid the ladder they had just lowered into the opening. After several moments McGee tried to refute what they were all sadly thinking, “There has to be another way in or out of there.”

Fornell eyed Gibbs the two exchanging several non-verbal worries and concerns before Fornell replied, “We can only hope, Agent McGee.”

Once the ladder was stationary Gibbs said, “Okay we go down one person at a time. Be VERY careful. The ladder feels stable but…”

“It’s a long way down, sir.”

“Yes, and don’t call me sir.”

“Yes, sir I mean Agent, uh, Gibbs.”

“We need several up here to keep watch, make sure no one else strays to near the hole, watch the ladder, be prepared with ropes if the ladder should collapse. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Buddy system. I’ll go down first, followed by Fornell then McGee…”

“Boss, I should go first…”

“With your issue of heights and the ladder being untested? Hell no, McGee.”

“But…”

“No, and if you feel you can’t climb down then don’t force yourself to. Don’t think I need to say how difficult it will be to get someone out of here who freezes on the ladder…or falls off of it.”

McGee swallowed hard and took a huge step back. Gibbs was first on the ladder and everyone watched as he made the slow climb down into the room. Next went Fornell. Once he touched ground he looked up and said, “That’s a hell of a long way up, Jethro. Think your boy can handle it?”

“We’ll see.”

“If he falls…”

“He won’t.”

“If he freezes…”

“He WON’T.”

“If you say so.”

“Have a little faith, Tobias.”

“Yeah working on it.”

Both watching as McGee approached the ladder Gibbs stated, “The lights clicked on as soon as I touched ground.”

“Motion sensors or environmental controls?”

“Not sure.”

Pointing to three of the four corners Fornell commented, “Mounted cameras and…”

“Air vents.”

Swallowing hard Fornell offered a weak, “Um yeah…” before both turned their gazes upwards towards the small hole in the ceiling.

Approaching the ladder to brace it to try to stabilize it for McGee he looked up hoping that his faith in McGee’s abilities was well placed. If they weren’t this could prove a most fatal decision. Swallowing hard he yelled up, “McGee you ready?”

“Uh yeah boss, sure.”

“I’ll hold the ladder from this end. You climb…and DON’T look down, McGee.”

“Um yes boss.”

“If you can’t do this…”

“I can, boss.”

“All right then.”

Slowly he climbed down having only stopped a few times before his feet struck blessed bottom. Stepping off the ladder he drew in several calming breaths before turning to gaze at the interior of the room and uttering the obvious, “It’s a bedroom.”

Gibbs shook his head as he responded, “You think, McGee?”

“Why would someone design a bedroom like this? What’s the purpose behind it?”

Gibbs and Fornell exchanged a tense gaze before once again slowly walking the perimeter. When no one answered McGee’s inquiry he chose to head for the other door in the room certain that it was a way out and halting as he opened it to find himself in a bathroom complete with bathtub, sink and commode. Approaching the sink out of curiosity more than anything he turned the knob surprised when water came out. He then proceeded to test all the facilities keeping half his attention on what the two older men were presently discussing in the other room while continuing to openly explore the bathroom.

After spending time combing the main room, examining it and looking for another exit Fornell spoke, “Gibbs, this room is an inescapable prison. The vents are too narrow to crawl through and… Hell, even the furniture is _bolted down_.”

“Yeah probably so anyone down here couldn’t stack it to get out.”

They both shuddered violently at that comment realizing that was most likely the reason behind it. Why else would anyone design rooms buried deep beneath ground, fully furnish them and then BOLT the furniture into place? Pushing the horrifying thoughts that kept trying to invade from his mind Gibbs said, “Yep, unless you have a ladder, of course.”

McGee interrupted exiting the other room, “Even comes complete with a bathroom that is actually fully stocked and has running water, both hot and cold.”

Gibbs and Fornell shuddered at the implications of that statement having noted, but boldly ignored the fact, that the bedroom too was set up as if ready for use. Neither wanted to put voice to their thoughts on what they were certain the purpose of this room was or just who could have or would have ultimately ended up trapped in it. McGee interrupted their disturbing thoughts with a simple utterance of, “Why would someone have rooms like this?”

“Why do you think McGee?”

“I…boss…”

“Why do you think he has a _list of initials **carved**_ into his bedroom wall, McGee?”

Horrified McGee muttered, “You don’t think… No, boss, that’s just…no.”

The dark expression on Gibbs’ face told him that’s _exactly_ what he was thinking. The room was made to hold _someone_ indefinitely, and just who that someone was? It was too disturbing and terrifying to even consider. Suddenly those words written in blood on an abandoned hospital wall took on an even more sadistic, dreaded meaning.

****

_NCIS Headquarters – MCRT Bull Pen_

The bagging and tagging of evidence, as well as retrieving all the remains from the bone pit took several days. Once all the bones were recovered they were sent directly to Ducky for possible identification. The process was slow even with Palmer and Abby chipping in, but after what seemed like endless hours they were starting to get positive ID’s. As the identifications were confirmed Ziva would search for photographs of the victims in between calling police departments to get a hold of their missing persons’ reports. McGee did active searches on the names of those identified while trying to track down personnel files. He was constantly bouncing between police departments and military bases to acquire them all. Balboa’s team were pursuing the history of the property they had found the pit on and were digging into the backgrounds of the previous owners. 

It took several more days before they were able to begin lining up the photographs of all the victims, placing them side by side on the plasma in the order their initials appeared on the carved bedroom wall of the cabin. The list was posted at the top and underneath were displayed the images of those whose initials they’d so far matched. As more identities were determined and more positive identifications made they were added to their ever growing collage of photographs already on display. 

Presently Gibbs was pacing back and forth across the Bull Pen, and Fornell? Fornell was once again ensconced in Tony’s chair. The only reason Gibbs didn’t get pissed about that is he was certain that Tony wouldn’t mind.

It was Fornell who finally broke the tension with a simple, “What are you thinking Gibbs?”

Slowly his eyes scanned the ever growing array of images on display trying not to let it bother him overly much that Tony was also _one of them_. He offered, “What’s the pattern?”

“Sorry?”

“What’s he looking for?”

“I don’t…”

“None of them share similar physical traits…”

Ziva interrupted, eyes now slowly scanning each individual image, “That is not entirely true. They are all men who are attractive, in good physical condition and are all between the ages of twenty-seven and fifty-six.”

“We can’t assume the others will fit any of those parameters.”

“No, Tobias, but…"

“I believe they will all be male,” stated Ziva with little doubt.

“McGee what did you find out so far on their backgrounds?”

“They’re smart.”

“All of them?”

His eyes shifted to the image of his missing partner who apparently had hid _a lot_ , _including_ his level of education and degrees, as in more than one. _That_ he hadn’t expected and his boss, he noticed, didn’t like revealing such things but as he was one of those initials carved into that cabin wall his full file had to be pulled. The first thing that surprised him, was just HOW MUCH of Tony’s background had been censored, both by him and the unexpectedly large amount of black lines present. He was certain Gibbs file was even more censored, but Tony’s had been a shock.

He must have been gaping because the moment his eyes returned to those massive black lines he had jerked his head up looking directly at his boss who simply said, “Not what you expected I take it?”

“No. No boss.”

“Now you understand why he’s on my team. He’s damned good.”

“Uh yes…yes boss. Boss?”

“Yes McGee?”

“The black lines?”

“Undercover Ops mostly, well that and his clearance level is freakishly high…”

“Even higher now,” added Tobias.

“Wh…? Why?”

“He’s Senior Field Agent, MINE and I’m Senior Agent…plus he’s helped out in some other agencies.”

“He…he has?”

“Yeah. Gets requested a lot but can only work a few as our team has some very intensive cases. He also occasionally consults.”

“Consults?”

“With other police departments and some of the alphabet agencies.”

“Are you…?”

“Sure? Yes.”

“What?”

“I have to be briefed to approve the loan, McGee.”

“Or the consultation?”

“Yes. Now can we get back to the case?”

“Uh yes boss.”

Eyes settling once again on his partner’s file he began to scan his work history. He knew Tony had worked at several police departments and went to the police academy but… Wait! _Police_ Academy, _police_ departments, _police_ officer…

Quickly he placed Tony’s file off to the side with it open to his police background and education. He then drew Kaden Jakand’s file from the pile, likewise opening it to that section saying, “Uh boss…”

“Yeah McGee?”

“They were in the same graduating class.”

Fornell sat up softly cursing. Gibbs focused on Tim asking, “What?”

“Agent Jakand and…and…”

“DiNozzo,” offered Fornell before continuing, “Told you they went to school together. DiNozzo pursued a career in Criminal Justice and Jakand…”

“In Counter Intelligence but…”

Noting the sudden pallor of his junior agent he questioned, “What is it McGee?” feeling even more anxious as he sat Jakand’s file on top of Tony’s. He turned to the next one and the next and…

“MCGEE!”

Jerking his head up in surprise he blurted, “Police backgrounds, boss.”

_“What?”_

Continuing to look through other files he answered, “I think… ALL of them, boss.”

“What?”

Fornell jumped up and approached McGee’s desk looking down at the files being laid out, glancing at each before managing a harsh, “Son of bitch! I think this bastard’s targeting cops, Gibbs.”

McGee interrupted as he continued to scan files, “And military personnel WITH a police background.”

Vance appeared then asking, “How are things progressing? Have you…?”

Gibbs snarled, “This bastard’s targeting cops, Leon!” 

That drew the heads of several people nearby all tensing and angry at what was just revealed. Vance questioned, “Are you…?”

“Damned sure,” harped Fornell.

McGee continued, “Sir, they have a police background. Whether it be as an officer or having graduated from a police academy.”

Gibbs turned to look at the images displayed on the plasma. His eyes once again resting on his still missing SFA as he simply stated, “Director, I think we may have ourselves a serial cop killer.”

“Shit, they’ll want blood.”

“They’re all gonna want blood, _including_ us, Director. This bastard’s targeting our own and has been for some time. We’ll all want a piece of him.”

Silence fell in the Bull Pen each person scanning the ever-growing array of photographs. All of those men were either police or had trained as one, and all of them for some reason had ended up either in that death pit or in some other area of that property with the exception of his still missing SFA. 

When Ziva had discovered the hunting grounds investigating the rest of the property became priority. If there was a pit full of bodies perhaps there were more scattered about. Caution was also high priority and the addition of the mapped grid found by one of Fornell’s men made it a whole hell of a lot easier to traverse. Sadly even more bodies had been recovered. It turned out that the bastard who owned the place had turned it into his own private little hunting grounds and all of his victims were the men whose images graced their plasma screen. What they had first thought was _just_ a political kidnapping was turning out to be so very much more. The newest recovered bodies pointed to there being something even more disturbing occurring. As a result they were now faced with a whole slew of new questions with less than adequate answers. The only person who could really help make sense of it all was the one who had led them there in the first place: Samina Khalil. She obviously knew a hell of a lot more than she had let on, and this case was growing more and more complicated by the damned minute.

Breaching the intense silence presently filling the atmosphere Balboa asked, “Okay so if he’s a cop killer why’s DiNozzo still alive?”

“We believe he’s still alive…” interrupted Agent Ferris. Ignoring that comment McGee interceded, “And why did he take Tony?”

Ziva stated the obvious, “He was a police officer, McGee. He worked in three different police departments before moving to NCIS.”

“I know that, Ziva, but how does _that_ tie into the revenge against Gibbs, Tony’s clue regarding Sudan and his abduction?”

Continuing to stare intently at the image of his still missing SFA Gibbs firmly announced, “We’re still missing something. Something _big_.”

“Right. If he was only interested in DiNozzo due to his police background he sure as hell wouldn’t have had him captured and held as a political prisoner.”

“No that was the Sudanese government. They wanted to get their hands on DiNozzo.”

“But how did _they_ even know about him? How do the two even connect?”

McGee commented, “Well Kaden Jakand was tortured. He was the connection to Tony.”

“Yeah him and…”

McGee paled as he forcefully inserted, “Samina..."

" _What_ , McGee?" snapped Ziva.

"Didn’t she infer that there was another possible player? That there’s more going on than we're aware of? If she’s telling the truth...”

“I don’t…”

“What if there _is_ another player? I mean… Boss, the man you say wants revenge on you do you believe he would have the potential to pull off what we found at that cabin?”

Looking at McGee he shook his head replying, “No."

"Why?"

"He was a middle man mostly. He could be violent but not to the extremes it would take to create not only that room but the hunting grounds Ziva found. He also wasn’t one for killing.”

“So you’re saying the chances of it being the same guy…”

Fornell forcefully interrupted with a sharp retort of, “People change.”

Gibbs interceded, “No. Not this guy and not _that much_ , Tobias. Akeem Najib had a temper, yeah, but not… It’s a complete one-eighty.”

McGee continued, “Okay so if there _is_ a second person…”

“He was _obtained_ for _another_ interested party,” offered Ziva.

McGee jerked his head up asking, "What?"

"She said that there was another person interested in Tony...and we ignored it.”

Gibbs shook his head stating, “Didn’t ignore it Ziva. I just assumed she was inadvertently referring to her government.”

McGee replied, “What if she wasn’t?”

Fornell interjected with a simple, “Told you there was more going on here than we thought.”

“But what?”

Tim interrupted again, “Two different people acting towards similar goals.”

“But with different motives.”

“Yeah. One wants revenge on Gibbs and the other…”

“Wants Tony,” inserted Ziva.

“But why? What is he searching for?”

Ferris commented, “There’s something Agent DiNozzo must have if he’s still…”

“Yes. But _what_?”

“And what’s the connection?”

“Obviously Sudan.”

“Right they’re all associated with the Sudanese military in some way.”

“Air Force.”

“What, McGee?”

“The Sudanese Air Force.”

“Think we need to dig deeper into those files.” They all nodded before Gibbs inquired, “Balboa, what did you find out about the previous owners of that cabin?”

“Not a whole lot. It was registered to an unsolved case, guy went missing several years ago. Cold case. It originally belonged to a Faraz Abdoo. Real prince that one.”

Ziva jerked her head up drawing Gibbs attention. Seeing his gaze lock onto hers she answered the unspoken question, “There was a Colonel Abdoo in the Sudanese military that my father would often warn me about. He was a dangerous man. One my father insisted I avoid at all costs. We were not to do business with him or even consult with him though several times his father attempted to do just that. The father was a mercenary, a powerful ruler who took sadistic pleasure in making others suffer. The son I do not know much of, except that he is known as a ghost. Very few have ever seen him, his reputation precedes him and for him that is all that is needed.”

Nodding he focused once again on Balboa who continued, “The research I’ve conducted on him matches with what David just mentioned. He had the reputation for being a real tyrant. He was cruel, violent, a corrupt leader who kept power through intimidation, violence and bloodshed. He had a reputation for being as cruel as he was sadistic. He was feared by many and remained in charge for some time until one day he mysteriously disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“Took his son hunting and never came back. People said it was a hunting accident, but there was no body ever recovered or found.”

“Think he could be one of ours?”

“It’s possible. Doctor Mallard is still making identifications, so we’ll have to wait and see.”

Nodding he waited for Balboa to continue, “Within a year of his disappearance his son, a Gadi Abdoo, began to rapidly climb the ranks in the Sudanese military. He also managed to create quite the reputation for himself.”

“So they’re the same?” questioned Fornell.

“Not exactly. Where his father was sadistic, cruel and had no conscience his son did. His son is known as a good leader who cares greatly for his people with a reputation that overshadows it all as he was, is coined as a man one does not want to betray. His cruelty is apparent when punishing others for defiance, disobedience and the like. Has the reputation of a slave driver with his men and insists on severe punishments when they disobey him or his commands…”

“So he’s a psychopath with a conscience?”

“Psychopaths have no conscience, Tobias.”

“I know that!”

“So he’s just…”

“A really dangerous man, McGee.”

Gibbs walked over to study the list of carved initials, eyes scrolling to the one that appeared to be the very first before asking, “What’s his full name, Balboa?”

“Who?”

“The father.”

“Oh uh Faraz Hashim Abdoo.”

Pointing to the initials at the very bottom of the list Gibbs commented, “FHA, How much do you want to bet that _this_ is his father?”

“His first kill.”

“Yes which means…”

“The list of names are all _connected_ to him in some way.”

McGee spoke then, “You mentioned his father was corrupt, a tyrant…”

“Yes.”

“What if…? Nah…”

Gibbs persisted, “What is it McGee?”

“Probably nothing…”

Ziva spoke up encouragingly, “Or it is something. What is it, McGee?”

Looking at Balboa he questioned, “That research happen to say if his father was ever involved with the police?”

Balboa paused eyes quickly scanning the folder before he managed a breathless, “Yes, yes he was. Started his career out that way…had a reputation for…”

“Let me guess… He was _crooked_.” Interrupted Gibbs his mind starting to fit pieces into place based on the evidence they had thus far found and what they knew. Balboa paused briefly to read before he answered, “Uh yes, yes...actually managed to work his way up to Captain before he joined…”

“What, Balboa, what?”

“The _Sudanese Air Force_ , Gibbs.”

“Son of a bitch,” snarled Fornell. Gibbs startled by the outburst looked at Fornell in question. Fornell huffed in frustration before answering, "You don't think he's looking for an _incorruptible cop_ , do you Gibbs?”

“Shit.”

“What? What?” demanded McGee.

Sighing in his own frustration Gibbs softly admitted, “If he is then DiNozzo is perfect for him."

"What? I don't understand. Why?"

Shaking his head Gibbs quietly informed, "The reason DiNozzo left Baltimore...”

“What?”

Fornell answered, “His partner was dirty, Agent McGee, he left Baltimore PD when he found out.”

“Okay so…”

Balboa took up that one, “If he’s searching for someone who was or is a cop and is incorruptible…then Tony is _exactly_ who he’s looking for.”

“ _If_ that’s what he is actually looking for…” interceded Agent Ferris.

“Well…”

“Well what Tobias?”

Looking at Gibbs he continued, “Good thing we have someone who may clarify things a bit more for us.”

“ _If_ she’ll cooperate.”

Fornell focused intently on his friend continuing, “Oh I think she will.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because she wants to get you worked up, her goal is to push your buttons. In order to do so she needs to reveal some things. Question is think you can handle it?”

“Yeah, yeah I can.”

Nodding they shared an intense look before agreeing it was time to bring Samina Khalil back into the interrogation room, and hopefully they could get a few more answers out of her too.

****

_NCIS Headquarters – Interrogation Room 1_

As he entered the interrogation room Samina looked up her lips widening into a bright smile as she stated, “You found something.”

“Why did you send us there?”

“Well for answers, of course.”

“Answers?”

“Yes.”

Casually tossing a folder in front of her she recognized it and fondly stroked it as she purred, “Ah he kept it. Seems it meant something to him too.”

He tossed several more folders in front of her demanding, “You have fun digging up information on all of us for a psychotic killer, Samina?”

“He is a TROPHY HUNTER, not an outright killer.”

“The bodies in his back yard say otherwise.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Well there were rumors, of course, but no one was brave enough to pursue them.”

“What?”

“He has quite the reputation, Agent Gibbs. I am surprised you seem to have little knowledge of him.”

“Who is he?”

“Why the colonel, of course.”

“This COLONEL have a name?”

“Oh yes. Abdoo, Colonel Abdoo.”

She looked up at the two way mirror and waved, winking as she continued, “Ask Miss Mossad what she knows about him. I am certain that she has heard of him from Daddy David a time or two. Probably told her to steer clear of him at all costs. He is not known as a very nice person.”

“Who is he?”

“A military officer in an extremely high position. He is known for his…unique interests.”

“Unique interests?”

“As I said he is a trophy hunter. Always searching for the ultimate prize. The one that all others pale in comparison to.”

“And how is that an answer?”

“You didn’t look deep enough if you are asking that.”

“What does he want?”

“I already answered that question, Agent Gibbs. You must learn to pay better attention.”

“No. You never…”

“I told you EXACTLY what he wants.”

“Okay remind me again.”

She smiled as she casually pulled the bottom folder off the pile and slid it over to him before continuing, “You should really read his file, Agent Gibbs. I assure you it is EXTREMELY THOROUGH, much more than any other. Go on. Take a little peak. Might want to take note of what drew his interest the most.”

Looking down he tried to fight back his reaction as he read the name clearly printed on the label:

ANTHONY D. DINOZZO

She casually flipped it open and pointed to the very first page saying, “Did you happen to take note of the home address when you scanned this file, Agent Gibbs? After all he only lived in _White Plains_ for a very short time. Heard you had no idea he had moved. The colonel, however, DID.”

“You accessed his personnel file?”

Shrugging casually she continued, “I was only confirming an address for a friend. No harm, no foul. _Right_ , Agent Gibbs?”

He jumped up and deliberately invaded her personal space as he snarled, “You GAVE my senior agent’s personal address to a psychotic monster?”

“Wow. You actually DO care for him. Too bad you can’t protect him too.”

“What does he want?”

“Seriously? Do I have to say it?”

“What is he after?”

“Is it not obvious, Agent Gibbs, or do you just desire to remain in the ignorant bliss of denial?”

“What?”

“What he WANTS, Agent Gibbs, is _your agent_. The scrumptious very special agent Anthony DiNozzo.”

“What does he want with him?”

“What did that little cabin in the woods tell you?”

“ _What_ does he want?”

Her lips quirked at the corners as she replied, “The colonel is a _trophy hunter_ , Agent Gibbs, and I am afraid that your boy was just too damned tempting for him to resist. He studied him in depth, you know? Stalked him like prey and when he got his chance he sunk his claws in deep, hooked him right out from under you. Now? Now he’s a magnificent challenge, a grand trophy, and the colonel gets quite _passionate_ about his trophies.”

“Why would you willingly do that to someone?”

Arching her brows, her lips stretching into a smug grin, she responded with a question of her own, “Oh come now, Agent Gibbs. Is it not yet obvious?”

“No.”

“Because it is the prefect revenge… _against you_.”

“And Tony?”

“What about him?”

“He doesn’t deserve that.”

“No probably not.”

“So why…?”

“Because _you_ CARE about him. You care about what happens to him.”

“You’re sadistic.”

“No just pissed off, Agent Gibbs.”

“A woman scorned,” remarked Fornell.

Her cold gaze shifted his way as she stated, “Oh you have NO IDEA, Agent Fornell, just how long I’ve waited.”

“Waited?” questioned Fornell.

“Biding my time pretending to be friends to that pampered, self-absorbed Israeli princess, pandering up to his very own _probie_. I was good too. DiNozzo didn’t suspect a thing at first, of course, that tenacious, insufferable bastard was persistent. Smart, _sexy smart_ that one and none of you ever realized. Would have loved to play with him myself, but sadly he was someone else’s heart’s desire. You never told me how persistent he could be. All of you _always_ grossly understating his abilities, his many assets. How foolish all of you were. Never thought he’d be as resilient as he is. Bastard’s loyal to a damned fault! Cares too damned much for all of you, all of you who treat him like the mud underneath your shoes. None of you deserve him. I did him a fucking favor! Got him away from you poisonous lot.”

“You _sold_ him,” interrupted Fornell.

She sighed answering, “No, I brokered a deal.”

“You sold him into what amounts to _slavery_.”

“Oh no, not slavery, Agent Fornell. The colonel does not want a slave. He wants someone who is his _equal_ in all things. He wants someone who will _challenge_ him, _push_ him and _rile_ him up. He wants someone who is spirited and beautiful, one who is unafraid to speak their mind, a free spirit. Someone who is not _tainted_ or _twisted_ by evil and corruption.”

“You mean someone who is _incorruptible_ , don’t you Miss Najib?”

Offering a twisted sneer she continued voice taking on a more condescending tone, “You mean _nothing_ to the colonel. Everything he has done was to get closer to your SFA. You see he finds him _fascinating_. He actually set this entire thing up, and his goal was simple: to capture and ensnare your precious SFA. He has had his eye fixed on him for _years_ , Agent Gibbs. He studied him, pursued him, researched him and stalked him like a lion on the prowl. His entire focus was to ensnare him in his web, add him to his collection and keep him firmly under his thumb. You see to him your SFA is wild, a rare creature that needs to be caged. He is a trophy to be won and kept on display. He is the colonel’s ultimate rival and his ultimate prize. It is truly a shame that no one realized the dangers to your poor SFA before it was too late to save him. He belongs to the colonel now, and you will _never_ see him again. I will, however, leave you with these comforting thoughts: they share a most dynamic relationship, all push and pull, like prized fighters. Neither surrendering, constantly battling it out, two alphas pitted against one another in a fight to the death. Each striving for dominance over the other.”

Offering a devious smirk she taunted further, “You never realized your SFA was a closet Alpha did you, Agent Gibbs? No, of course not. You are always so very busy trying to subvert him, bend him to your rule. Truth is you only have that because he _allows it_. Now imagine what would happen if he actually fought against you?”

_PROTECT TONY_

Those were the words left written in blood on a wall at a most disturbing crime scene. At the time he assumed it was a warning to protect Tony from being captured by the enemy. Now he was certain it referenced a lot more than that. She said the _Colonel_ wanted to capture and ensnare his SFA. Ziva had mentioned she knew him by reputation only, and that reputation was anything but good. This whole time he was certain that he was the main target when in reality it had been Tony all along. 

Shuffling from foot to foot he licked his lips aware that he had been taken for a fool. He had left his guard down, forgot Tony’s real value, his true worth and as a result someone else got their hands on him. He had never been such an utter failure at having his partner’s back before and it struck him hard.

Fornell proceeded, “So your government’s not interested in him. It was all…”

“Oh they are. They were damned near _salivating_ when I offered him up. They paid a handsome price for him too.”

“But you said this colonel set it all up…”

“Oh he did. Planned it down to the letter… You see if you had explored that property a bit more extensively then you would have realized it comes complete with nice little hunting grounds. The colonel trains extensively on them, also likes to conduct little experiments, run a few _tests_ … After all in his search for his perfect adversary he needed some way of eliminating the competition, some way of weeding it down to only the best…” Turning to Gibbs, offering a glib victorious smile, she continued “…and your agent proved to be the _best_ , Agent Gibbs. Apparently passed all his tests with flying colors and now he is ready to relocate him to a much more fitting location. Sadly you still have no idea where to even begin a search for him, so I fear that the colonel will successfully get away with his prize. I assure you, Agent Gibbs that he will move the lovely Agent DiNozzo to a location that will be exceedingly difficult to find. He will not yield his prize willingly. Sadly I fear that you may have already lost him.”

“If your government wants him so badly I don’t see them yielding him so easily.”

“They want him _broken_. They brought the colonel in to do so because they know that he **is** the best. He has free rein to do whatever he deems necessary to successfully complete the task. My government is willing to give him _whatever_ he wants if he can guarantee success, and based on his reputation alone they know it will only be a matter of time.”

“Even though he’s a serial killer with…”

She laughed, giggling outright as she interrupted, “Oh you haven’t figured it out yet have you, Agent Gibbs?”

Knowing she was baiting his friend Fornell directly interceded, “Figured _what_ out, Miss Najib?”

She didn’t acknowledge him her gaze settling intently on Gibbs as she said, “The colonel is _not_ a serial killer. He is a _**collector**_.”

****

_Washington DC_

_NCIS Headquarters – Director Vance’s Office_

He was often described as a cold, calculating man. A person who had little patience for screw offs and amateurs. He was a man who had high standards, a stubborn bastard who refused to see things differently than his own preconceived notions. 

He was sometimes accused of being shallow, unforgiving and relentless. One who made up his mind and refused to accept that he might sometimes be wrong.

He had damned near screwed up so badly that he had almost sacrificed a damned good agent. It was sad really to admit that what made him suddenly stand up and take notice was the blatant disregard and disrespect towards a superior agent. How a supposed leader did little to correct the serious breach of chain of command. It took him watching, quietly observing a certain agent to realize he could have been wrong. When the young agent repeatedly was the last to leave the office and often the first to arrive, when he began to notice how reports written by junior agents were being proofed and literally being rewritten by a senior agent, when said agent began to look haggard and weary he _finally_ took notice. When he was approached about a possible mole, a healthy dose of suspicion and the fact that said agent unbeknownst to even HIM was voluntarily putting in time to help the FBI with a case he sat up and took notice.

Fornell’s confidence and repeated compliments regarding one Anthony DiNozzo Junior had been a huge indicator that he had gravely misjudged the man, had missed SOMETHING that he was determined to figure out.

Within weeks he was finding himself drawn to the enigmatic man, enjoying his energy and the passion he displayed for the job. He began to speak with him more, call him to his office, RELY on him more than his Senior Agent. He began to share more with one Anthony DiNozzo than he’d ever had with his Senior Agent. He had discovered that Tony was very easy to talk to and then this young man he had begun to appreciate, to permit entrance had suddenly vanished without a trace.

He quickly became determined to find him, locate him, rescue him aware of what he was no doubt suffering and feeling a deeper kinship with him as a result. He knew then he’d do whatever it took to get him back and KEEP him. He was also determined to help him in any way he could realizing whether he was aware of it or not that Tony had helped him immensely in ways the young man would probably never comprehend. He MISSED him and that alone was an uncommon emotion for him to experience in regards to ANY agent under his direct employ. He _would_ find him, and he _would_ help him. He was determined to do so, but sadly out of all the thousands of places in the world DiNozzo could have been why did it _have_ to be Sudan? Why a country that’s been in a perpetual state of war since long before he was even born?

Shaking his head, dismissing the line his thoughts were traveling, he focused on the next task: _it was time._ It was time to give his senior agent the choice, and if said agent agreed, which he knew he would, then Gibbs would be taking one of the next flights to South Sudan. It was a huge risk. If he were to be caught they wouldn’t get a second chance. The risks were just too damned high. They basically had one shot at this and if it failed then DiNozzo would be lost to them. If Gibbs agreed to go in then he’d send the best with him to pull DiNozzo out. If he refused… Well, he’d just have to figure out another way to get his agent out of dangerous territory.

Calling Gibbs to his office he waited for his agent to enter. Once inside he turned to address him direct and to the point, “We recently received some new Intel.”

Tensing, standing up straight, licking his now dry lips he forced out, "New Intel, Leon?”

“Put the word out when he first disappeared.”

“Someone thinks they saw him?”

Leon looked upset and disturbed as he nodded. Gibbs felt his heart race. Leon continued, “Not sure if we can _get him out_ , Gibbs.”

“Why not? He’s one of our best, been gone too long. We owe it to him.”

“Yes we do.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Leon sighed heavily bracing himself to deliver the bad news. Then spoke, “We first need a positive ID.”

“We’ve moved on less, Leon. What’s the hold up?”

Lowering his gaze he drew in another breath before focusing intently on Gibbs and simply answering, “He’s in a war zone, a very _active_ **and** _volatile_ war zone.”

“Which we already knew.”

“Yes.”

“Which base?”

“The one in the border town of Abyei. Gibbs, it’s presently disputed territory…”

“Abyei or Darfur…”

“What?”

“She said he would most likely be in Abyei or Darfur.”

“Yes. It shares borders with Darfur, Kordofan and the Blue Nile.”

“Right in the center of all the unrest just like she said.”

“I was hoping she would be wrong.”

“So was I, Leon, so was I.”

He continued, “Active war zone under heavy fire. You know what that means.”

“Quick extraction.”

“You hit them fast. You hit them hard. Find him. Retrieve him. Get him and the rest of your team the hell out of there as quickly as you can.”

“While maneuvering around the Sudanese Air Force, the Janjaweed and the SPLM-North just to name a few.”

“No one said it would be easy, and if we want our agent back we have no choice.”

“And we’re sure that’s _exactly_ where he’s at?”

“Not a hundred percent but as you said we’ve gone on less Intel, and DiNozzo’s girl confirmed it as one of the places they would most likely be keeping him. Satellite imagery also shows it’s a very active base…”

“What are you omitting, Leon?”

 _Damned perceptive bastard._ “The Intel is over a week old.”

“Over a week? And we’re just hearing about it now?”

“Deep cover, Gibbs.”

“How deep?”

“Deep enough that he took a hell of a big risk to get that Intel to us.”

“And?”

“And now he’s missing, disappeared. Lost contact with him less than a day after he passed it.”

“Shit. Think it was blown?”

“Not sure.”

“What exactly did he report?”

“Said they saw him… He was being examined by a doctor...”

“What exactly did they say, Leon?”

“That he looked thin, pale and extremely exhausted.”

“They’ve been starving him?”

“Most likely yes.”

“Bastards.”

“Which could jeopardize the rescue mission as he may not be mobile…”

“How sure are we about this particular Intel?”

“It came from an undercover operative out of Khartoum. Apparently got inside one of their military bases, got a look at our boy when he was being seen by their doctor.”

“So good chance.”

“Yes.”

“If he’s severely injured, Leon…”

The Director held Gibbs’ gaze as he simply responded, “Pray he’s not. Last thing we need is more agents in enemy territory.”

“But if he is?”

“Based on what we know chances are fairly high that he is, so be prepared.”

“Right. Do we have a way in?”

“Well depends on which you think would be least likely to be compromised. I propose B38 out of Turalei, South Sudan. It’ll be risky, especially with the SPLM working on destroying the bridges along the route, but the other routes seem far less viable. No matter which route you take there will be no way to avoid unrest as the entire area and all surrounding countries are in a near constant state of war.”

“We’d have to get him across the border.”

“Well with the sheer number of refugees fleeing that country daily hopefully no one will notice.”

“The information he holds could cause a lot of damage. Are we sure they know nothing about what he knows?”

“If they did I think we would have seen actions taken already. The fact that we haven’t leads me to believe that they are in fact ignorant of it.”

“Well that’s something.”

“You’re afraid if they know they’ll move him before we even get close?”

“We have a mole, Leon. How much she was able to leak before we caught her is yet unknown. If she was able to pass anything on to her contact and they move him we’ll most likely never see him again.”

“Which is why I’m allowing this crazy mission based on the little bit of Intel we’ve managed to accumulate. It’s the first we’ve had other than from his girl. We need to at least _try_.”

“Yeah.”

“DiNozzo trusts her enough that he led you to her, and based on this newest bit of Intel we can as well.”

“Sensed we could just…”

“I know. Look the UN has had people there for years. They patrol the borders, help the populace and try to maintain the peace. You may want to consider bringing them in on the rescue mission.”

Gibbs pinned Vance with an intent look, jaw twitching as he said, “Some of that information DiNozzo has could potentially reveal a double agent among them. Do you really think it wise to tip them off that we have a missing agent possibly being held in that town, Leon?”

“We don’t have to tell them what he knows."

“But the mole may have already passed some of that Intel on. He’s been missing for several months. No one has seen or heard from him **ever** in that time. The only proof we have that he is even alive and possibly there is from a former Sudanese spy and a source out of Khartoum. With that area being so heavily populated with so many clashing groups no doubt at least one of them knows he’s there and has been concealing it, _concealing him_ and keeping a tight lid on it.”

Leon lowered his head, drawing in a calming breath that had Gibbs adding, “But you already knew that, didn’t you Leon? Just who do you think is concealing his whereabouts from us?”

Leon glanced at Gibbs before adding, “The mission is high risk. If you can’t get out we may not be able to get you out.”

“Who do you suspect is holding him there, Leon?”

“Other than someone who has some crazy vendetta against you? Possibly the Sudanese government, or someone high up in that government.”

“Yeah that’s what she said.”

“We need to tread lightly with this one, Gibbs. We have no choice. Get in, find him and get out. He will probably be badly injured, but we need to move quickly. We can’t afford to linger in enemy territory for too long or we could lose all of you.”

“I’ll make sure to emphasize the danger and high risk of the mission. I’ll also offer them plenty of options to bail out at any time, but whether they come or not I fully intend to get Tony back.”

“Do you know who you’re taking, yet?”

“Balboa’s been insisting that he be involved in the rescue. He requested that I leave Ziva and McGee behind.”

“I hate to say it, but I agree with him. I’ve already given him permission to join the rescue team. He insisted. I also had Burley request to be involved as well. I want you to have adequate back up out there, Gibbs. Sadly, I don’t have a whole lot of confidence in either of your junior agents at the moment. The last thing I want to do is lose him because they failed to listen to orders or went in half-cocked, guns blazing. This needs to be a _stealth mission_ , Gibbs, the consequences if it’s not are just too great.”

“Understood.”

“Whatever you need, you tell me. This may be our only shot at retrieving him, and there is no room for error.”

“I’ll get him, Leon. If it’s the last thing I do. I’ll get him back.”

“I’ve been keeping Fornell informed. He’s not crazy about the idea, but he said he’d have agents waiting at the airport and a direct transport to Bethesda if and when you arrive. They’ll be ready to intercept at a moment’s notice.”

“Good. We’ll need all the help we can get.”

“Gibbs, I expect you to return alive and well, _**ALL** of you_.”

“Yes sir. Fully intend to.”


	17. The Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so seeing where this chapter ends up I feel the need to add a brief note here. In simple terms? My degrees are in Psychology and Graphic Design NOT the medical field, therefore I'm no expert on medical aspects or terminology. I have, however, conducted much research in the field to do my level best at making all medical sections as accurate as possible. Thank you.
> 
> *Brushes off hands and moves on*
> 
> I do hope all of you enjoy this chapter. As I mentioned previously this is the "turning point" of the story. From here on out I will be focusing heavily on Tony's healing. ALL members of team Gibbs, including the NCIS family, will be involved in helping Tony to fully recover. There will be ups, there will be downs and there will be little warm fuzzies too... So without further ado on to the rescue... :)

_Abyei, North Sudan_

The buildings sit like skeletons on the horizon. A town once prosperous now lying in piles of rubble and razed to dust. A once beautiful place now desolate and grey. Overhead the high-pitched whistles can be heard piercing the sky, impacting with loud bangs and sending more rubble into their already rock-strewn path.

“Sir, are we sure he’s here?”

Metal poles twisted into grotesque shapes greet them as they pass. Heavily armored trucks bank the main entrance and exit points into and out of the desert town. Patrols of guards pace restlessly in the heat of an overbearing, uncaring sun as it burns, baking the earth beneath it. Large pock marks open in their path as they attempt to drive further into the danger zone. If he’s not here then he is no doubt lost to them.

“Boss, where do you think they’d be keeping him?”

“Most likely underground barracks, think military bunker, cave, basement…”

An explosion erupts to their left. The heat of the fire now blazing crackling against their skin much, much too close for comfort.

“If any of you would like to turn back now. I won’t stop you.”

“Boss, what about you?”

“I’m _getting_ Tony back.”

“And if you can’t… If you get captured with him?”

“Then at least he’ll no longer be alone in this hell.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Don’t call me sir.”

Voices screaming orders, cries of panic flooding the air as a group of men are seen ravaging a house, one of the few remaining intact structures. Gunfire and orders precede and soon people come running out of the house into the fray of bullets, shattered pieces of rock raining down upon them as another bomb is dropped on the skeletal structure of the house next door.

“I won’t hold it against you if any of you turn back now.”

They continue driving over empty shell casings, seeing people desperately seeking shelter in the ravaged, crumbling, torn rubble. Many will not live to see the night. 

Another body is strewn in their path. He swerves to go around it trying to grant them at least that much respect in death. Too many are never given such honor. Many lie forgotten in what once served as streets, while others are tossed carelessly onto an ever growing pile of those not so fortunate.

The constant report of weapon fire makes one want to run, hide or duck for cover not race directly into the storm, but if they are to successfully rescue their missing team mate they have no choice. If they fail he will most likely never be seen or heard from again. The thought chills them clean to the bone.

Relieved to finally see what appears to be a relatively intact structure bracketed by several men dressed in military gear they stop the jeep. The patrol officers only give them a cursory glance, most likely assuming that the white jeep was part of the UN force sent to patrol the area. At least _something_ was working in their favor.

Burley is first to speak, “Boss, this is where the coordinates point to.”

Gibbs focuses on the remains of the cement building standing before them. If their Intel and research is correct then Tony is in that building somewhere. By the looks of what still remains of the structure his first instinct is most likely correct: Tony is being held underground. 

As another explosion strikes nearby he turns and once again addresses the small group, “This is your last chance. You can leave now or stay. There is no going back once I’m inside. Understood?”

They all nod in response, not one turning to leave. Instead Burley shifts gears and drives their white jeep under an overhang near what might have at one time served as a back door. Their mission far too important to back out of.

 

He entered the building cautiously knowing that time was of the essence, knowing that this could all be for nothing. They had yet to receive a positive ID on Tony. The agent who reported it had ceased all transmissions shortly thereafter. It was enough, enough for Gibbs to move. Vance didn’t like it and told him if he were to get in trouble they might never be able to retrieve him. He was willing to take that risk. If Tony was here he’d damned well find him.

Quietly, stealthily he made his way down the hall unsure of what to search for aware that it was silent once more. Shaking his head at how unnerving that was he quickly slipped around the corner halting when he heard the approach of several others. Peering from his hiding place he noticed they were foreign military. Foreign military in an apparently abandoned building? His suspicions increased. Waiting patiently he was relieved when he no longer heard any sounds and continued to make his way down a dark corridor traveling on instinct alone.

As his eyes swept the area he couldn’t see anything even remotely hinting at habitation until he came to a dark tan metal door counter-sunk in a frame that looked like it was much newer than the rest of the building. He listened intently for any sounds of approach or movement before trying the door, which to his surprise opened easily beneath his hand. Easing the door slowly open he peered around it and suddenly understood why it hadn’t been secured in any way. There was a narrow set of stairs leading down into darkness, starkly lit by light bulbs at ceiling level strung sporadically along the left side and a bundle of wires seemingly trailing along the ground down the right side. If he were spotted on those stairs there was no cover to duck behind. He would be a sitting duck and this mission would be over before it began.

Closing the door once again he ducked around a corner and slid into the dark squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to think of his next move. Hearing no recognizable sounds in the immediate vicinity he spoke quietly into his mic, “Sparrow 2, do you copy? Over.”

“Read you loud and clear, Sparrow 1.”

“Found a set of stairs leading down, no possible cover once on them. If I don’t report back within one hour…”

A voice came back just as quietly with a slight crackling in it, “Understood, Sparrow 1. Present location secure. It’s your move. Over.”

“If he’s here and hurt I’m going to need help to get him out.”

“Copy that.”

“Requesting temporary radio silence.”

“Understood. Sparrow 2 going dark.”

“Sparrow 1 over and out.”

Drawing his gun he took momentary comfort in its familiar weight before listening closely for any sounds of approach then sliding once more to the door and slowly easing it open. Glancing down the stairs he was relieved to see that they were empty. Slowly and with great trepidation he eased around the door and closed it softly behind him listening for any sounds below. When he heard none he carefully scaled the stairs noting that they were made of stone and damp, one false step could send him sliding abruptly down them. Tensing his fingers on his weapon he continued his slow progression relieved only when both feet were planted firmly at the bottom. Pressing against the wall he noticed there was a concrete tunnel before him that seemed to twist in two different directions. Wonderful.

Quickly making his way to the split he paused to listen to the sounds around him. He heard subtle mumbling down the left tunnel and silence down the right. Deciding to peruse the quieter and notably darker tunnel he slid down it relieved when it was wider then it first appeared and had several nooks and crannies one could squeeze into if cover was necessary. Granted the nooks and crannies were not as adequate as he’d like but they were enough to conceal a person.

His progress down the tunnel was slow as he constantly scanned behind and in front of him while also tracking his eyes across the ceiling and walls in search of any type of surveillance. Soon he found himself by a door. Listening closely and ascertaining the room was most likely empty he slowly opened it. Storage. All right moving on. 

Continuing on down the hall he tried each door he came across noting that the knobs soon turned into latches that could be padlocked from the outside and the rooms turned into possible holding cells, some with evidence of use, some without. 

Soon he came to a door that wouldn’t open. He tried not to get his hopes up and slowly undid the latch. Peering in the first thing he noticed was the small iron cage resting in the center of the room. It appeared to be riveted to the floor. It was too small for one to stand in and too short for one to lay in. Handcuffs dangled from one of the bars making him swallow hard as he realized just what the cage was most likely used for: squatting. Had his agent been secured in that cell at some point during his lengthy captivity? Swallowing hard he was certain the answer was a veritable yes. 

_Oh Tony the hell you must have been put through._

Squeezing his eyes shut he forced the thoughts to the back of his mind determined to keep moving. Hoping he wouldn’t stumble onto any more rooms filled with such sadistic devices. Quietly closing the door and re locking it he made his way to the next. It too was secured from the outside. He slowly picked the lock then undid the latch drawing in a calming breath in preparation for what might lie behind it, hoping that it wasn’t another room sporting crude devices used to do unspeakable things to the human body. Looking into this particular room he immediately noticed just how bright it was, an obvious contrast to the disturbing room he had just left. Raising his hand he shielded his eyes from the sudden change in lighting freezing when he heard a muffled cough. Immediately his eyes turned towards the source and his heart leapt into his chest.

Without hesitation he quickly approached the man secured upon his knees in the center of the room, arms extended and chained to either side of him, blindfolded and gagged, slumped no doubt painfully forward. Slowly and gently he reached towards the man’s neck, hand shaking violently before pressing into the side and finding a steady pulse. The man was alive and as he struggled to lift his head he knew he was alert. Gently he reached for the blindfold easing it off of the man’s eyes and watching as he quickly squeezed them shut before turning away, quietly keening as he tried to bury them in his shoulder. The light, damn it he forgot about the light, “Shit, sorry, I’m sorry,” he tensely whispered before shaking his head and turning his attention to the gag, gently he worked the ragged cloth out from between very dry, cracked, bleeding lips allowing it to drop down around his neck before softly tapping the back of the man’s head saying a quiet, “Hey…”

“B’ss…” came the scratchy hoarse response that had Gibbs nearly collapsing in relief for only one man would address him like that upon waking. He had found him! 

Resisting the overwhelming urge to tightly hug the obviously severely battered man he settled for a soft firm, “Damn is it ever good to hear your voice again!” pressing a palm tenderly against his cheek and internally wincing at the horrendous dark bruising present there.

Without thought he quickly stood to work on the restraints securing his wrists. The position looked very painful, and he knew that Tony was probably unaware that he was even on his knees. Shit. 

Looking at his right wrist he had to choke back the bit of acid suddenly stirring in the back of his throat at just how much blood was present and soaked into the once white inner leather lining of a medical restraint. Apparently someone had decided at some point to switch from obvious chain, rope or wire to more, dare he say _humane_ , medical restraints for each of his wrists. The sheer amount of both dry and wet blood indicating the wrist took a hell of a lot of damage before the decision was made, which meant to remove it was most likely going to hurt like hell. Afraid to even touch it he quickly returned to kneel before Tony managing a calm, “Tony? Tony?”

“Boss?”

Gently lifting his chin to look him in the eyes he answered, “I need to remove the restraints but…”

Tony squinted against the light before focusing on him exhaustion and pain emanating from him in waves. Aware enough to realize what Gibbs was trying to say to him he managed a tense, harsh, “Hmm, pissed ‘em off bit, was outraged when saw it, insisted…”

Wanting to ask him to expand on that comment but knowing time was not on their side he firmly stated, “Tony I need to…”

Nodding for Gibbs to do as he intended he opened his mouth allowing the older man to carefully push the dirty gag back in. Gently tapping him on his cheek to regain his rapidly faltering attention he softly uttered, “Tony? DiNozzo, you ready for this?”

Tony bit firmer on the piece of cloth before nodding and closing his eyes unable to watch as Gibbs returned to his right arm and carefully, as carefully as he could, removed the chain hooked into the leather restraint, leaving the padded wrist cuff intact and attached for now. As his arm dropped Tony released a shrill scream that was only silenced by the gag he was biting firmly into.

Slowly, gently he grasped the injured arm, carefully bending it at the elbow before settling it firmly against Tony’s chest. He softly informed, “Tony, I promise we’ll remove the wrist cuff as soon as we can, but not yet. Okay? I don’t want to run the risk of making it bleed more and be unable to stem the flow. Okay…understand?”

Swallowing hard he managed to achieve eye contact nodding in agreement before once again closing his eyes in preparation for the subsequent release of his left arm.

Gibbs drew in a shaky breath forcing himself to calm down and _focus_ as he leveled a gaze onto the left arm restraint. As carefully as he did with the first he removed the chain quickly moving in to buffer Tony and brace him as the action made him drop rapidly towards the ground. Hearing the muffled scream he immediately muttered soft quiet apologies holding Tony firmly against him as his breath came in harsh little puffs. Reaching up he gently tugged at the gag muttering, “Tony let it go for me. Come on,” and sagging in relief when he relaxed his jaw enough that Gibbs could once again tug it out of his mouth. The harsh puffs quickly turned to tense gasping as Tony struggled valiantly to breathe through the extreme pain his entire body was presently flooded in. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was released from that horrid position, but was extremely thankful to finally be free, though the pain was presently stealing his breath. 

Holding Tony in close, brushing a gentle hand through his hair in an effort to calm him he softly encouraged him to breathe normal and stay with him. Watching as Tony relaxed further, eyes sliding closed as his breathing slowly evened out. It was several more moments before Gibbs softly muttered, “We need to move, Tony, we need to move,” jostling him just enough to bring him back.

Tony heavily sighed licking his dry cracked bleeding lips forcing out a tight, “Few minutes…yet, boss…” exhaustion ever-present in both his voice and across his face.

He wanted to refuse knowing the dangers if they were caught, but didn’t have the heart to move the man when he obviously wasn’t ready. After several more moments ears still perked and tuned listening for any arrivals he prepared to speak again feeling Tony’s sudden light grasp on his bracing arm before he managed a harsh, “’Kay…”

Gibbs picking up on the prompt said, “Tony, we need to stand up. Do you think…?”

“Put back in…”

“Tony…”

“For now…too much pain, won’t be able to…”

“You’re sure?”

Nodding, he quietly joked, “Never thought…blessing before…”

Gibbs studied him intently. Tony focused on him managing a faltering, “Have to…” that nearly faded out on him. He was apparently losing his voice too, and based on how severely cracked his lips were he knew that was no doubt from lack of water intake. Shit.

Carefully sliding the gag back in place and shuddering at the action he waited for Tony’s nod before slowly standing up. Once on their feet Tony nearly dropped towards the ground again. Gibbs reacted fast bracing him about the waist managing a harsh tense, “Shit, Tony, can you walk?” Fear increasing as he became even more aware of just how _light_ Tony actually was. There was no doubt in his mind that his captors had been starving him. The cold-hearted bastards!

“…mm…” came the muffled reply and Gibbs cursed the need for having to use the gag to keep his cries of pain momentarily quiet. Shaking his head he gently urged, “Shh don’t try to talk. Can you walk?”

Tony looked at him squinting, his eyes now watering and nearly crossing, as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing and what was being said. The gentlest pat to the back of his head had him snapping more alert. Hearing the words now and not just seeing lips move he nodded. Gibbs continued in a near whisper, “Okay, Tony, we’re gonna move now. You got me?”

He continued to stare at the older man ignoring both the sensitivity of his eyes and the anguish thrumming through him managing a subtle nod. _Yes._

“Okay here we go.”

The pain that engulfed him upon moving nearly had him blacking out again everything going white and winking out before slight pressure on his mouth had him trying to fight against the owner. Feeling a gentle tap had him focusing, his breathing slowly easing as his vision cleared revealing his boss again. This time he held the man’s gaze and nodded. Gibbs went to move his hand but halted when Tony managed to shake his head. No. No. Movement meant pain which also meant he’d make noise and draw attention. Apparently Tony didn’t feel the gag would be sufficient enough to keep his vocalizations of pain quiet. Nodding in understanding Gibbs braced him and slowly helped him up. This time he managed to comply but swayed violently.

Gibbs asked, “You good? Tony, you good?”

Nodding Gibbs eased his hand off the younger man’s mouth and gently tugged out the gag before repositioning both arms to better brace him yet again inquiring, “Can you walk?”

Tony held his gaze for longer than usually needed before nodding. He was fading fast. Knowing the risks they could run if Tony collapsed he pushed the younger agent harder, directing him towards the door and into the hallway. He noticed almost immediately that Tony was having difficulty picking up his feet. He stumbled multiple times as if putting even slight pressure on them was causing severe pain. Glancing briefly at them he noticed they were bare and dirty. They were also bloody which meant…

Jerking to an abrupt halt at the sudden dreaded sounds of explosions and gunfire his stomach seemed to twist immediately into horrible knots. Surely they hadn’t been discovered? He glanced around but saw no one approaching them or shouting in their direction. They were alone. Puzzled by that realization he once again scanned the immediate area before focusing intently on Tony. He had stopped as well and was now gazing forlornly towards the ceiling. After what seemed like minutes but was merely seconds, Tony spoke, his voice strained and gravelly, “Happens…lot…”

Caught off guard by the comment he sharply demanded, “What? What does Tony?”

Seeing Tony’s eyes cross for a moment before his legs began to fold beneath him Gibbs immediately braced him tighter, shaking him more violently then intended and drawing a painful gasp from deep within the young man as he quietly hissed, “Hey! Stay with me, Tony.”

Tony responded by forcing his legs to straighten and his head up managing a breathless, “Think…air strike, boss.”

“Another one? We just…”

“It…it’ll pass.”

“It will pass?”

“Hmm…common… Now’s good…get out…”

“What?”

“Captors, unnerves…distracts…move.”

Understanding what he was trying to relay and recalling words spoken to him some time ago Gibbs nodded. He now understood what Meera Shadid meant when she said to use the air strikes to get him out. Apparently they were quite frequent. It was the perfect ready-made distraction.

Adjusting his hold on Tony to brace him firmer he stated, “All right then let’s move. You with me, Tony?”

Fighting back the sudden ringing in his ears Tony managed a soft weak, “Hmm…yeah boss…” that had him once again jolting him to gain his attention. The resounding hiss that filled the air had a pang of guilt stabbing at his heart, but they _had_ to move. If Tony lost consciousness then it would become much more difficult to get him out. They _had_ to keep moving.

As if hearing Gibbs’ command Tony licked his extremely dry lips answering, “Got it, boss…” and forced himself to focus on helping instead of hindering their progress.

Gibbs continued to focus on getting the hell out of the building before anyone saw them hearing another loud bang somewhere above them. Several small pebbles and dirt rained down upon them as they progressed making Gibbs very much aware of just how close that particular strike had impacted. As they drew closer to the stairs he could hear more distinct sounds of gunfire and explosions. Blocking those sounds out he pushed himself onward relieved when he could finally see them. Another scan up and down the tunnels confirmed that they were still alone. Guiding Tony into a dark alcove directly to their left he whispered into his com, “Sparrow 2, do you copy?”

“Copy, Sparrow 1.”

“Can any of you make it to our position? Over.”

“What’s your twenty?”

“Stairs.”

“Copy that, Sparrow 1, in route to you now. Over.”

“Copy. Not sure if we’ll make it but determined to try. Over.”

“Give me a few minutes…”

“Don’t have that long!”

As if in answer the door at the top of the stairs opened. He ducked further around the corner with Tony unsure if it had been opened by friend or foe relaxing only a hair when a voice came over the com, “Sparrow 1, on the stairs making my way to you now. Over.”

Tony swayed dangerously on his feet leaning heavily against him but still upright. As he felt Tony’s weight suddenly shift in combination with a raspy groan eliciting forth Gibbs quietly cursed, alarmed until a familiar voice softly informed, “It’s just me, Agent Gibbs,” and having heard Tony’s painful outcry upon brushing up against him offered a soft, “Sorry Tone,” quickly adjusting his hold.

“S’okay…” came his weak, labored reply. 

Pressing his lips firmly together Balboa shared a concerned gaze with Gibbs then proceeded to attempt a visual assessment of his friend in the semi-darkness, worry and concern prominent as he continued his report “Attacks started up again. Position’s still secure. We need to move. It’s a war zone out there.”

Nodding he felt some of his tension drain as Agent Balboa braced Tony’s other side. Balboa focused intently on Gibbs as he reassured, “I’ve got him, Gibbs. You?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s get him out of here.”

“The sooner, the better. Tony said his captors get distracted by the attacks, but I don’t believe they’ll last much longer.”

“Common occurrence?”

“According to Tony it is.”

“Buys us some time and anonymity so that’s good…”

Tony interrupted urgently, “Pleas’tries…later. Move… ‘Fading fast…”

Balboa exchanged an alarmed look with Gibbs who directed, “Hang on a little longer, Tony. We need to get you up these stairs first. You got me?”

When no response was forth coming he shook Tony snapping, “Hey DiNozzo, you got me?”

Releasing a strangled cry and turning to bury his face in against Gibbs’ shoulder in response to the fresh pain assailing him he responded with a breathless, “Yeah boss, stairs…go…”

Gibbs felt another pang of guilt at having caused his young agent more pain, but it was unavoidable. Sharing a determined look with Balboa the two secured Tony between them levering him towards the stairs. Gibbs quietly said, “All right first step, Tony. Can you…?”

Slowly and with great effort Tony raised first his right foot then his left. Once settled on the first step he said, “Got…”

Nodding in understanding they began their slow ascent trying to aid Tony as best they could, but it was difficult seeing he was fighting both the pull of unconsciousness and severely damaged feet.

Once to the top Balboa eased the door open and whispered the all clear. Gibbs informed, “If we need to we can duck around the door. There’s some cover to the right.”

“Got it.”

Gibbs focused on his rapidly fading friend who was softly panting, his head hanging low as if he had passed out and softly asked, “Tony, you still with us?”

With much difficulty Tony managed to lift his head up mumbling, “Yep, still here, boss…”

“We’re almost there Tony.”

“Good, seeing spots…ears ringing…”

Another tense gaze was exchanged between Gibbs and Balboa both knowing that Tony’s admission meant he was going to be blacking out very soon. Both of them automatically moved in closer to brace him more firmly between them, strengthening their holds in preparation for catching and holding his weight when he did.

At a nod they slipped out the door and down the deserted hall the sounds of explosions and mortar fire much louder and closer than previously. Scanning the area Gibbs ascertained that they were presently alone and whispered in his com, “Sparrow 1 and 2 heading your way. Be ready to intercept.”

“Ready,” came the response. 

As they neared the point where Gibbs had first entered the compound he was glad to see their transport still waiting for them. Directing their precious burden towards the jeep Gibbs gently urged Tony to keep moving. Within moments of doing so he felt the last of his young agent’s reserve strength give out. Both braced for the sudden expected shift in weight as Tony lost consciousness. Balboa stared intently at Gibbs as he reassured, “I’ve still got him. You?”

“Yeah.”

Finally reaching the jeep Balboa stated, “We’re here.” 

Gibbs added, “But Tony’s unconscious. Help me get him in the back. The firestorm seems to be dissipating again and we do not want to be caught here, gentlemen.”

Together with additional help from Agent Burley they eased Tony inside, maneuvering him into the back before nodding to their driver and jumping in themselves. 

Without hesitation he shifted gear into drive and hit the gas. Quickly, as quickly as they could he drove them to an isolated air strip then climbed out to help Gibbs get DiNozzo from the jeep onto the plane. The sudden jarring movement pulling Tony back to consciousness as he managed, “Boss…”

“Still here but were not safe yet Tony. We’re getting ready to board. Think you can help out?”

His eyes slid shut as he swallowed hard before managing a slight nod. Gibbs helped him to sit up his hand skimming across Tony’s back to brace him causing his young agent to gasp and pull away. Gibbs was quicker drawing him back against him running a calming hand through his hair as he gently urged, “Easy, Tony, easy. I know it hurts, I know, but you have to work with me here. Can you do that?”

A nod was his only response. Gibbs tossed over his shoulder, “Burley…” and instantly the man was to his right ready to help him get Tony on his feet and guide him onto the plane. Diverting his full attention back onto Tony he asked, “Ready? DiNozzo, you ready?”

“Hmm, yeah boss…”

“Listen. I need you to listen to me, Tony. Are you listening? You lean on me, you hear? You lean on me if you need to. You got me? Tony, you got me?”

Licking his lips he nodded feeling the rough texture of Gibbs’ shirt beneath his left cheek. Bracing himself for the pain he knew was sure to greet him he managed, “’Kay, ready…”

Wrapping his arms tighter around Tony in an effort to brace him firmer he spoke, “Okay on three… One, two…”

Tony managed to get to his feet with assistance but the instant he put pressure on them he began to drop. Burley was faster and slipped in to brace his other side. Tony offered a gruff “Thanks…” before sagging against Gibbs grateful for the support. Within moments he was being maneuvered onto the plane. Once inside they settled him comfortably on the floor bracketing him securely between them. Looking around briefly in surprise he mumbled, “Hoppin’ a ride, boss?”

“Yeah, Tony, we are.”

He struggled to focus on Gibbs aware that he was fast slipping away and managed a soft, “Hmm, ‘kay…”

Upon feeling Gibbs press into his side he immediately lowered his head onto his boss’ shoulder too tired to hold it up any longer inhaling deeply, muttering a soft “Sawdust…missed that.”

Gibbs softly smiled gently urging, “Go to sleep, Tony, it’s going to be a long flight, and we’re not in the clear yet. Sleep, we’ve got your six.”

Licking his severely chapped lips Tony was able to focus on Gibbs face managing a slight nod before settling more, eyes closing of their own accord, as he no longer had the strength to keep them open. 

As Tony drifted asleep he released a quiet mumbled, “Not over yet,” that had Gibbs tensing aware that while they had Tony the ones who had caused all this were still on the loose. The only difference? The final showdown would now take place on their own turf. 

Allowing his head to drop back against the plane wall he sent a silent thank you and a prayer that they’d make it out alive into the air. Startling slightly as Burley gently draped his jacket over Tony tucking it around him as best he could. Holding Burley’s gaze he quietly said, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. We’re still not in the clear.”

“Still you didn’t have to do this.”

“Oh yes I did, boss. Yes I did.”

Nodding he allowed himself to relax slightly very much aware of the soft wheezing and rattling of Tony’s breathing. He knew that his agent had no doubt sustained some broken bones and most likely had more than one or two fractured and broken ribs based on his breathing and the bit of Tony’s left side he had seen earlier through the torn remains of the shirt he wore before Burley had covered him up. He also knew that there were many other injuries not yet seen. It worried him just as much as their desperate attempt to get out of Africa.

As if reading his thoughts Burley softly said, “He’ll be all right, boss. He’s made it this far.”

“We don’t know all of his injuries.”

As if to emphasize that Gibbs gently grasped the badly bruised cut up hand draped over his leg tenderly sliding his own underneath to brace it as Tony in his sleep let out a strangled cry. He softly hushed him holding the slightly trembling hand in his own noting that several of the fingers were bent at odd angles indicating he had suffered a few broken fingers as well. He also once again noticed the white inner lining of the remaining restraint was stained, saturated deeply in blood and was certain that beneath that cuff lay raw, angry deep bleeding welts from restraints digging and sawing mercilessly at the tender flesh. He was certain there was an identical injury on the other wrist, but still refused to remove either of those cuffs. The last thing they needed was him possibly bleeding to death from temporarily clotted cuts being mercilessly ripped open from their premature removal. They were presently serving as crude bandages and leaving them in place could prove to be the difference between life and death for his obviously severely injured agent. 

Burley’s next statement drew his attention back on the present as he replied, “No but he’s a fighter.”

Nodding in agreement he continued to focus intently on the hand now braced in his own quietly muttering, “His hand is warm.”

“Well yeah…”

“No, no it’s too warm.”

“Infection?”

“At least three broken fingers and that’s just on his right hand. How many more are there?”

“He’ll be all right, Gibbs. Once we get him to Bethesda they’ll work their magic and he’ll be as good as new.”

“No, not as good as new. He’ll be completely different.”

“But he’ll be healthier.”

They fell into a tense silence once more. Gibbs actively assessing the present condition of his younger agent. His worry climbing as he noted several things that could potentially become life threatening, including the obvious severe weight loss.

Burley interrupted his thoughts saying, “Hey he’ll be all right. We’ll be getting him help very soon.”

“He’s in rough shape, Burley.”

“Hey if there’s one thing I’ve learned about Tony DiNozzo it’s that he’s a damned stubborn bastard. He’ll make it through. He’s not the quitting type. He won’t give up. He’ll _never_ give up.”

“Not willingly at least but…”

“Hey, hey none of that. Positive vibes, boss, _positive_ vibes.”

“He’s so thin…”

“Yes but he’s _alive_.”

It was then that Balboa entered and lowered to the floor directly across from them as he assured, “We’re getting ready to take off now.”

“Good. Good. The quicker we can get off the ground the faster we can get out of enemy territory.”

Nodding in agreement Balboa’s concerned gaze settled on Tony as he softly questioned, “How’s he doing?”

Gibbs looked up answering, “He’s asleep now…”

Balboa reached across to gently place a comforting hand on Gibbs’ leg as he offered, “Hey he’ll be all right. You’ll see. He’s one hell of a fighter.”

Nodding he managed a quiet, “Thanks…for everything.”

“Anytime, Gibbs, anytime.”

He watched as the older agent’s eyes once again fell to the face of his now sleeping SFA and sent his own little prayer of thanks into the air. They _finally_ had him back. Now they just needed to get him the help he desperately needed and once that was taken care of the long road to recovery would start. He was determined to be there for Tony and to offer his steadfast support every step of the way. Settling against the wall he listened to the humming of the engines and could hear the sound of the wheels lifting and retracting. 

As the wheels lifted off the tarmac Gibbs settled as well his focus once again on his now sleeping agent. Wrapping an arm protectively around him he drew him closer hearing a muttered, “Boss…” that had his heart panging. He was quick to offer comfort as he soothingly replied, “Hush, Tony. Go to sleep. You’re all right. I’ve got you.”

“Safe…?”

“Not yet. Soon.”

“Mm ‘kay boss.”

“Shh Tony, sleep. I got your six.”

Tony huffed against him his body relaxing again as he settled further. Apparently he now slept a hell of a lot lighter than he used to. Probably due to months of hyper awareness and an inability to let his guard down for even a moment. He doubted very much that Tony was able to do so since his disappearance. 

As they began their ascent he found himself once again sending up a desperate prayer for their safe departure and return. He was on edge and on high alert his gaze pinned firmly to his sleeping friend. Watching him, determined to protect him and shield him as best he could. He offered what comfort he could in the small plane relaxing more when the plane began to level out. Finally they were off the ground and in the air. Now they just had to make it passed enemy air space and over the ocean. 

As the plane completed its level, he released another tense breath before stilling as the man asleep against him coughed several times before settling himself. Moments later he was coughing violently again scaring Gibbs with the force of it.

Hating to do it but too terrified not to he shook the man in his arms saying a harsh, “Tony. Tony!”

As his coughing subsided he managed to force out a hoarse, “Hurts…lot,” in response to the urgent usage of his name aware that it had frightened his boss. _Especially_ when he could feel arms wrapping, curling more protectively around him and being accompanied by a gentle, “I know. I know it does, and I’m sorry.”

“Mm sign…weakness,” mumbled Tony before shifting against him and releasing an exhausted huff forcing out a strained, “Always tired…in pain. Hate it.”

Tightening his hold even further, ever cautious of unseen injuries, Gibbs replied, “I know you do. I know you do. Go to sleep, Tony. We’re almost there.”

“Hospital?”

Nodding he answered, “Bethesda.”

Sagging against him, more tension fleeing his body in response, he timidly asked, “Really free?”

“Yes, Tony. You’re _really_ free.”

Sighing he nodded muttering, “Mm…s’good, good…” before drifting asleep once more. 

Gibbs continued his quiet vigil still holding Tony’s hand in his. Gently sliding his pointer and middle fingers to the pulse point on his wrist he only relaxed further when he could feel the steady beat beneath. Finally settling himself he then directed his focus onto Tony’s deep, even breathing and soon was pressing his head against Tony’s. It wasn’t long before he too closed his eyes, subconsciously drawing the younger man closer and soon following Tony into dreamland.

Balboa smiled softly when he noticed the older agent finally give in to the exhaustion he too was feeling. He had been pushing himself ragged ever since the Director had given them the green light to rescue Tony. The man hadn’t slept in over forty-eight hours driven to find Tony and rescue him. Even during their initial long flight to South Sudan the stubborn man refused to allow himself to rest. His goal was to find Tony, rescue him and get them all out of Africa as quickly as was humanly possible. 

Gibbs was running on fumes. To see him finally drift asleep helped ease his own worries and concerns. He knew that if any threat came Gibbs would be up in an instant to shield and defend the young man now resting in his protective embrace. He would not relinquish him until Tony was safely back in Washington D.C. and surrounded by people who would protect and defend him with their very lives. He was just too damned vital to the old marine and his team. It was a relief to see them together again and to _finally_ have Tony ensconced safely within their small group. They were bringing him HOME.

Sharing a knowing look with Burley, who too was now observing the sleeping pair, they both sat up straighter in unspoken agreement, kept their weapons snugly in their hands at the ready and listened to the quiet hum of the airplane as it carried them home. If _anyone_ made any attempts to bring their plane down, thwart them or make a move towards the now sleeping men presently in their care they’d damned well be ready, able and willing to do battle. They had finally managed to locate Tony and get him back. There was no way in HELL they were going to willingly release him to ANYONE.

**

_Washington D.C._

_NCIS Headquarters – Abby’s Lab_

_"He didn’t quit, did he Director?”_

Those words came back to her now along with the conversation that had accompanied them. At the time she wasn’t sure if they were the truth or a perpetual lie. She was certain that they were the former, and she had decided to actively dig for more information. 

Everyone on the team had believed that Tony had just quit, had walked off the job without a second thought, leaving behind those he had viewed as family. She had tried repeatedly to convince the others that it was involuntary, that Tony would never just…give up. She tried to convince them that there was more to his disappearance, but no one would listen to her…at least not until the Director had entered her lab on that one fateful day.

Focusing intently on her favorite picture of Tony still gracing her wall she wrapped her arms around herself waiting on edge to hear if the mission to retrieve him had been a success. Her mind suddenly providing the details of that day so very long ago…

_“He didn’t quit, did he Director?”_

_Quietly observing him she noticed that the moment she asked her question his eyes strayed to the pictures of Tony taped to her walls. Studying him she couldn’t miss the way he tensed, the brief glimmer of worry and was that fear? That traveled across his face only to be quickly shoved behind a mask of indifference as he simply asked, “Who?”_

_Staring intently at him, pinning him with a curious, somewhat angry gaze she persisted, “You know **who** , Director. Tell me what you know.”_

_Shrugging his shoulders he shook his head as he continued, “Miss Scuito, I’m not sure I understand the question you’re posing.”_

_Immediately her hands went to her hips as she deliberately stepped closer invading his personal space and spearing him with a mutinous stare, her lips set in a grim line. She waited silently urging him, ordering him to speak. To her pleasure he shifted subtly, his own eyes darting quickly down to the floor before sliding back to one of the pictures on her wall then settling calmly on her. When it became obvious he had no intention of entertaining her inquiries she continued, “Okay if that’s how you want to be about it then fine, but I will warn you, Director, I’ve already started looking into the events of that day and I’m more than a little certain that he didn’t leave **willingly**.”_

_He had immediately stiffened proceeding to watch her as if silently considering his options and how he should proceed. After several moments he drew out a toothpick and casually slipped it in his mouth. He studied her longer before speaking softer, quieter than before, “Miss Scuito, I should warn you to tread carefully. You’re walking a very thin line.”_

_“Then why don’t you **elaborate** on this thin line you refer to Director.”_

_“Further… **research** into the incident you’re referring to could be considered meddling in an ongoing investigation that could land you in whole heap of trouble.”_

_“Whose ongoing investigation am I apparently meddling in, sir?”_

_Subtlety wasn’t always his strong suit. She waited him out, refusing to back down and relieved when he continued, “What agency digs their heels in when a federal agent goes missing, Miss Scuito?”_

_She gaped staring at him in shock and surprise after several minutes she softly answered, “I was afraid of that.”_

_“What?”_

_“As I said Director I’ve been…digging, off the grid of course, not sure who all is involved. All I know is that things are looking a bit…hinky. Director, what’s going on? Who…? Why…? Why him?”_

_She was nearly in tears. She had found something, something that made her suspect things weren’t at all what they seemed. Whatever it was had landed her right in the middle of a conspiracy. The Director suddenly seemed extremely worried and overly concerned. Reading the emotions in his eyes she continued, “The more I dig the more I suspect…”_

_“Suspect **what** , Miss Scuito?”_

_Lifting her arms from her hips to quickly wrap them around herself and lowering her head fractionally she softly answered, “That he was betrayed…by one of our own sir.”_

_“That is a very astute and dangerous assumption, Miss Scuito.”_

_“So I’m right then? He didn’t quit.”_

_The Director had intently studied her several more moments before admitting, “No, Miss Scuito, he most certainly **did not**.”_

She had nodded, arms tightening further before asking what they could do about it. He had informed her that it was being looked into and that she needed to keep what she suspected, what she _knew_ , to herself. It was far too dangerous to reveal what her evidence had merited. She had hesitantly agreed with him not liking having to keep it all to herself, but for Tony she was willing to do just about _anything_ if it meant getting him back.

It felt like ages ago since they had that discussion. She spent hours afterwards combing and digging through anything she could get her hands on in relation to Tony and his mysterious disappearance. Much like Fornell’s investigation she kept hitting up against brick walls convincing her that there were obviously some people mighty high up the food chain involved in the initial abduction and concealment of Tony’s location. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. 

Finally after so many months of hearing nothing and getting nowhere they were close to getting him back…that is if Gibbs’ mission was a success. It would be. It _had_ to be! 

Drawing in a steadying breath she once again focused intently on her favorite image of Tony as she waited in the unusually silent stillness of her lab for an update, for any news on Gibbs or Tony good or bad.

**

_NCIS Headquarters – Director Vance’s Office_

The waiting was the worst part. He had to send his Senior Agent into an active war zone with an ex-teammate and members of Balboa’s team to do the extraction. With Ziva David now on mandatory forced leave and Timothy McGee under observation for possible burn out he didn’t trust either of them to have Gibbs or DiNozzo’s backs. They were both too run down, too worried and far too close to the whole situation. They could become potentially unstable or overly zealous. He couldn’t allow that. The mission _had_ to be one of stealth. As a result he had to send Gibbs in with a team he didn’t normally work with to hopefully locate and retrieve a missing, no doubt injured and weak, agent. He had yet to hear ANYTHING and it was making him extremely anxious. 

Finding his office presently too confining he walked out onto the balcony and watched his agents as they worked diligently below. As his phone rang more than one gaze lifted as an unusual silence spread rapidly through the agency. Ignoring the strangeness of it he cautiously answered his phone, “Director Vance.”

A voice came back sharp, crisp and clear, “We have the package safely secured, sir.”

He wanted to relax in outright relief for an apparently successful mission but maintained his blank expression standing firm as he inquired, “The mission was a success?”

“We’re in transit to Bethesda now.”

Vance closed his eyes allowing the relief to finally flood in before hesitantly inquiring, “Any casualties?”

“Not on our side, sir.”

“Good. Good. I’ll meet you there.”

“Yes, sir.”

As he ended the call his agents anxiously waited for him to speak. Swallowing hard he felt touched at the outward signs of concern from so many for a man he thought many disliked. Shaking his head at his own stupidity for daring to think like that at one time he scanned their faces. After a breathless pause he simply announced, “We got him.”

A united sigh of relief filled the area and several people were smiling brightly as the room filled with sudden loud applause. Mission accomplished! _Finally_ their lost lamb was back where he belonged.

His first instinct was to rush to the hospital as quickly as possible, but he had one minor stop to make along the way. Quickly he informed Palmer over the phone before heading directly to the elevator punching the button for the Forensics Lab and watching as the doors closed before him. Feeling the subtle halt of the elevator announcing his arrival he waited impatiently for the doors to open quickly pushing past them and heading directly for Forensics. It was time to give Miss Scuito the good news. 

As he entered her lab he was immediately greeted by her expectant gaze as she, no doubt, was waiting on edge to hear what had happened. In response to her unvoiced question he offered a simple nod requesting, “Ride along with me?”

Abby stared intently at him before finding her voice asking, “Gibbs?”

“In transit to Bethesda.”

Her breath hitched, heart beat suddenly racing as she cautiously approached, reaching out to gently grasp his arm further inquiring, “And _Tony_?”

Smiling warmly he informed, “ _Also_ in transit to Bethesda.”

She squeed before throwing her arms around the Director who at first stiffened before returning the embrace quietly confirming, “WE got him, Abby. He’s finally _home_.”

She tightened her hold on him, tears forming, pooling at the edges of her lashes as she noted the Director had _actually_ used her first name. Smiling, she felt the tears tumble down across her cheeks before pulling back and asking, “Can we go now?”

Drawing away, gazing at her, he gently reached up and brushed a tear off her cheek as he managed a tight, “Yes we can,” aware that he was acting much, _much_ too informal. Clearing his throat, releasing his hold, he stood up straight and extended his arm as he inquired, “Will you accompany me to the hospital, Miss Scuito?”

Smile brightening, she instinctively reached out entwining her arm within his as she looked at him and simply answered, “Lead the way, Director.”

Together they made their way to the garage intent on heading directly to Bethesda and reclaiming their missing friend back into the fold.

****

_Bethesda Naval Hospital – Intensive Care Unit_

Entering the hospital she quickly made her way to the check in desk asking for the room of one Agent Anthony DiNozzo while the Director brought up the rear. The nurse looked up at her and smiled in greeting as she recognized the young Goth from various other times Agent Gibbs’ infamous team ended up in the hospital for one reason or another. This time it was the young man that was always so sweet and charming. She had heard they were in transit and knew to expect a whole flurry of activity shortly. When they were finally wheeling the injured agent into a private ICU room she was saddened to see all the bandages and wires running to and from him. He had been injured really badly this time.

Offering the young Goth a warm smile she urged, “You can go on in, sweetie. Your Agent Gibbs is waiting for you outside his room.”

“Thank you.”

“Sure thing.” Turning, she then warmly greeted the young woman’s companion, “Director Vance.”

“Maria, it’s good to see you again.”

“How are you?”

Watching his Forensics Scientist quickly make her way to the lone room at the end of the hall he stood back. His Senior Agent was already there to greet her talking quietly with her before urging her towards the door. Not wanting to overwhelm DiNozzo if he were presently conscious he settled for exchanging pleasantries with the nurse, “I’m doing much better now. Thank you and how are you?” momentarily content to wait his turn. He refused to admit that he was just as anxious as Abigail Scuito to check on his injured agent.

Abby had practically ran down the hall to get to Tony’s room. Once spotting Gibbs she demanded, “How is he?”

Gibbs immediately reached out to brace her, gently halting her forward trajectory as he informed, “Abby, he’s in pretty rough shape.”

“I _need_ to see him.”

“I know you do, but… He’s sleeping, Abs.”

“Please?”

He could never say no to her, especially knowing how fearful and worried she had been for Tony so he softly answered, “Okay but Abby he’s in really bad shape.”

Nodding she allowed Gibbs to guide her into his room. Once inside tears began to flow unbidden down her cheeks as her gaze finally fell onto her missing friend. He was still and asleep just as Gibbs had said. There were multiple pillows piled up and bracing him in various different locations keeping him in a semi-upright position. The heart monitor beat a steady rhythm as he softly breathed in and out. Gazing at his handsome face she noticed that he was an unhealthy pallor, the dark bruising and swelling on his cheek standing out prominently in stark contrast. Covers were presently tucked snugly around him and his right hand rested above them. As she studied him intently she briefly closed her eyes in relief. She had feared that they would never see him again, and now? Now he was _here_. He was back, finally!

Approaching his bed she focused on his sleeping face softly addressing, “Hey Tony. It’s Abby, mind if I sit with you?” Turning briefly to Gibbs she asked a simple, “Can I?”

His gaze was also centered on his sleeping agent. Worry and concern etched into every line as he quietly answered, “Sure you can Abs, just…be careful.”

Nodding she reached for Tony’s hand noticing three wrapped fingers and a thickly wrapped wrist. Looking closer she also noticed how badly bruised his exposed arm was and asked, “What…what are his injuries?”

“They haven’t really said just told me that some are easily treatable and some are not.”

“They haven’t _told you_? Wait but aren’t you his…?”

“No, no not anymore. When I went to Mexico he needed to assign someone else.”

“What? But why?”

“Because of his lungs, Abby. He needed someone who resided closer in case of emergency.”

“Oh.” Turning her focus back onto her sleeping friend she questioned, “Is he…is he in pain?”

The doctor, a Doctor Masterson, chose that particular moment to announce her presence as she answered, “Yes.”

Lifting her head in surprise she gently nibbled her bottom lip before forcing out, “But…but you gave him something…for the pain right? _Right?_ ”

The doctor looked from her to the older man who immediately placed his hands reassuringly on her shoulders quietly answering, “They can’t Abs, not yet.”

Suddenly filled with righteous anger she demanded, “Well, why the hell not? This is a hospital, isn’t it?”

The doctor stepped forward eyes quickly landing on her patient to assess if her loud voice had disturbed him. When he appeared to still be asleep she settled on hissing, “Miss, if you can’t stay calm and quiet I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

The younger woman seemed to crumple before her in outward distress nearly pleading, “What? No! I can’t leave.” Tightening her hold on her patient’s hand as if fearful that she would be pulled away from him at a moment’s notice continuing, “NO! Tony needs me here. How dare you even suggest such a thing?”

Gibbs glanced irritatingly at the doctor before focusing intently on the distraught young woman and informing, “Abby. Abby, they can’t even give him a _sedative_ right now.”

She looked up at Gibbs in shock before asking, “Why?”

Quieting his voice he said, “Abs, you already know why.”

Looking at Tony she nodded before asking, “How underweight is he?”

A very tired, pain-filled voice answered, “Could probably lift me…yourself, Abs.”

“Tony, oh Tony did I wake you?”

“No. Light sleeper… _really_ light sleeper.”

Opening his eyes he focused on her and managed a smile as he continued, “So good…to see your beautiful face, Miss Scuito… Never thought…again… Kiss you but…”

Leaning down she pressed a tender kiss to his temple as she spoke, “I’m so glad you’re back. I was so worried.”

Tony’s eyes fell shut as he managed, “Mm…”

“Tony, how, how do you, are you…?”

“Tired Abs, real tired…bit…uncomfortable, but doc’s giving me some aids to keep the pressure off…worst of ‘em…anyways.”

Doctor Masterson interrupted then inquiring, “Are you Miss Abigail Scuito?”

“Yes.”

Her anger suddenly turned into outright relief as she continued, “Good because I _really_ need to speak with you.”

“Oh, okay but…”

Cutting off her protest she persisted, “It’s about Tony.”

“I don’t understand.”

Assessing the young woman she drew in a calming breath before informing, “You are listed as his medical power of attorney.”

“Wait. It’s not Gibbs, Donald Mallard or James Palmer?”

“No.”

“Oh…” She was surprised at that. She thought for certain if he had changed it, as Gibbs had just said, then he would have made it either Ducky or Jimmy. 

“Abs,” came Tony’s soft pain-filled voice. She lowered asking, “What, Tony?” her confusion pushed aside to give him her undivided attention.

“Need you to…go with her…for me. Please?”

“But Tony I’m…”

“Abby,” interrupted Gibbs as Tony was fading yet again. She focused intently on Gibbs who grasped her upper arms turning her to face him as he firmly addressed, “He _chose_ you to do this for him.”

“But why? I…”

Tony licked his lips before answering, “Trust…you…with my life, Abs.”

Leaning down she pressed a kiss to his forehead softly saying, “Then I’ll be right back. Sleep, Tony. We have your back.”

Tony was half asleep again as he tiredly responded, “Lots of…injuries Abs. Need your help.”

Nodding, she again urged him to sleep waiting until his breathing evened out before following the doctor out of the room. Vance approached worry etched into his face. Abby was quick to reassure, “He’s asleep again. I need to consult with the doctor on his treatments. I’ll be back shortly… Director?”

“Yes Miss Scuito?”

“Will you…stay with him…at least until I get back. He needs more than just Gibbs to…”

“Yes. Go on. I’ll stay with him.”

Hesitantly she approached him before quickly hugging him and saying a quiet, “Thanks, thank you Director.”

“Sure. Sure. Go. I’ll be right here.”

Nodding she turned to focus on the doctor who was waiting patiently for her. Soon they were once again walking down the hall as she commented, “I thought a medical power of attorney was only used when someone was unable to make decisions for themselves.”

Relaxing at the woman’s firm inquiry she answered, “Yes that is true, but they also act when a person is unable to communicate properly what they want or need.” Pausing at her office door she opened it and gestured for Abby to enter. Once inside with the door firmly closed she turned to continue addressing the young woman, “Mister DiNozzo…”

“Oh call him Tony, everybody does.”

“ _Tony_ presently is struggling just to stay awake. He’s exhausted, dehydrated and suffering the effects of starvation those three things in combination with all of his injuries is why he asked us to confer with you on what steps to take next.”

“I see and is there a lot to decide?”

“Mainly right now is the type of treatments we can proceed with.”

“Tell me what he needs, what his injuries are.”

“There’s a long list of ailments that young man is presently facing.”

“And…”

“The most serious is the severe malnourishment, starvation and dehydration. He is also extremely exhausted so expect him to sleep a lot and try your best to keep him warm.”

“Warm?”

“He will become colder easier. It’s partly due to the starvation and the fact that he has very little fat reserves left. The starvation has entered into the third stage and is verging on the fourth.”

“The fourth being?”

Briefly lowering her head in preparation to deliver the bad news she soon returned her gaze to the concerned young woman and provided the answer, “Death, Miss Scuito, usually within eight to twelve weeks depending on the individual.”

Drawing her hand up to her mouth she covered it, other arm wrapping firmly about herself before managing, “But he’s not that far along right? _Right_ , Doctor…?”

“Masterson and no. No he’s not, but he’s close, close enough to be concerned. I’d estimate it’s been approximately six to seven weeks at least.”

“So there’s still time to reverse it.”

“Oh yes, most definitely, which leads us into the first major issue we must address.”

“Okay what, what is it?”

“Mister DiNozzo, Tony… He’s presently refusing the nasogastric intubation, which we use for feeding and delivery of medications. It’s a standard procedure we conduct on all patients upon admission.”

“But not on Tony? Why?”

“Your friend has suffered extreme trauma. He’s been _tortured_ , Miss Scuito and with torture victims we must take a more cautious approach. Many upon being admitted to the hospital will panic outright. Our main focus initially for these patients is to stabilize any acute illnesses and injuries then provide proper treatment. We need to begin compiling a record of the types of torture he was exposed to and determine what takes precedence. Right now that would be the NG intubation and our inability to apply a nasal cannula. We will also need to conduct quite a few x rays and tests as well as obtain photographic evidence of all visual injuries.”

“Okay…”

“Your friend also has several fractured and severely bruised ribs which, as you know, will hamper his breathing. He has multiple horizontal and down sloping lesions across his back, buttocks and the backs of his legs and has been repeatedly exposed to vicious beatings. There is also the presence of some rather extensive deep bone and muscle bruising. We suspect that he may be suffering from hyperflexion and other soft tissue injuries in combination with a varied array of contusions, lacerations and minor abrasions as well. Most of these can be determined by conducting multiple X-rays.” Feeling guilty for overwhelming the distraught young woman she softened her voice continuing, “It is a lot to be concerned with Miss Scuito which is why we need to focus first on maintaining his breathing and getting needed weight back on him. Right now a decision has to be made on how best to handle the oxygen and reintroduction of needed nutrients back into his system.”

Squeezing her eyes shut. She mentally sorted through all that had been revealed filing them to address in the very near future. As she calmed she reopened her eyes and posed a simple inquiry, “He’s refusing them both? The oxygen and the feeding tube?”

“No, not the oxygen, which I highly recommend as it will aid in lessening the strain on his already severely strained body. My suggestion is an oxygen mask that _he_ can use when needed, that _he_ has full control over.”

Nodding she asked, “Why’s he refusing the other…?”

“For the very same reason we can’t attach the nasal cannula.”

“Which is?”

Doctor Masterson drew in a calming breath and slowly blew it out before continuing, “As his medical power of attorney you have the right to know the extent of his injuries and what they are, and even though you can enforce it you cannot make him accept either of those aids.”

Feeling overwhelmed again she quickly pushed it back before persisting, “Okay but that still isn’t explaining _why_.”

“Miss Scuito…”

“What _aren’t_ you saying?”

Lowering her head she drew in another calming breath before continuing, “This is usually extremely difficult for family and friends to hear.”

“As his medical power of attorney I demand you tell me what you’re holding back.”

Gaze briefly flicking away before returning she said, “It is not uncommon for victims of lengthy captivity and torture to be subjected to many gross violations…”

“Yes I understand that.”

“Then you understand there is more than just…”

Losing her patience with the Doctor’s obvious attempts at stalling she snapped, “YES, _yes_ now tell me. Please?”

Sighing in frustration she knew she couldn’t drag it out any longer or ease the method of delivery so she bluntly informed, “I’m positive that he was subjected to force feeding repeatedly, Miss Scuito, and based on the surprisingly little evidence of scarring from the procedure I would say they most likely secured him in some way, stabilized his head, lubricated the hose before insertion, possibly used drugs to keep him immobile while doing so and switched between inserting it through his mouth and inserting it through his nose to possibly lessen the high risk of injury such a horrific procedure can cause.”

Nodding in comprehension she waited for the Doctor to continue relieved when she did, “There is noticeable bruising in his nasal passages. He also has bruises and sores around his mouth and inside that not only indicate he was gagged for a time but…”

“But?”

“That he was also…that they used… _something_ to force his mouth open. Most likely to insert the tubing. His throat is also noticeably sore and irritated. If we were to add a nasal cannula he wouldn’t be able to resist yanking it out. He’d be in too much pain. As for the nasogastric tube…”

“It could terrify him…”

“ _Would_ , Miss Scuito, it _would_ terrify him I am certain. Have you ever experienced one of those being inserted?”

“No.”

“It is not an easy procedure, even when a patient is agreeable to it and gives consent. Now imagine what it must be like for someone who is being _forced involuntarily_ to accept it repeatedly for who knows how long. I am certain that the people who did the procedure on Agent DiNozzo were not gentle about it, Miss Scuito and…”

“And?”

“…that’s not all.”

“What else could there possibly be?”

Drawing in a calming breath she continued her voice even softer than before as she informed, “Miss Scuito, he also has evidence of…”

“Of what?”

“Past assault. Trauma. Scarring mostly. It’s not recent but…it was frequent, often…”

“Past assault?”

“Rape, Miss Scuito, _anal rape_. He was raped repeatedly. It was brutal, violent as evidenced by the scar tissue present, but as I mentioned it has been some time.”

“How? Why? Why Tony?”

“I’m guessing that it was part of his frequent torture, but as I said it has been some time since…”

“How…how long ago would you?”

“I’d estimate approximately a month, month and a half, give or take.”

“Why would they…?”

“Stop? I’m guessing they stopped the actual rapes due to his present condition. I mean the severity of the dehydration and malnourishment he is presently experiencing… It takes _time_ , Miss Scuito, _a lot_ of time. If they wanted to keep him alive they would have been more cautious with him when his health started to decline. I am certain the assaults continued but no longer involved intercourse as part of it.”

“When do you think his health started failing?”

“The degree of dehydration and malnourishment present indicates at least six to seven weeks without much food intake and three to four days minimal water intake. The dehydration appears to have been almost a constant but someone stepped in when it would become dangerous to him. The intubation to force food into him probably also slowed. Too much risk of death by repeatedly inserting tubes into him and too much food too quickly could have killed him. They most likely had someone monitoring him closely, a medical doctor perhaps, or someone with a very high degree of medical knowledge.”

“Okay.”

“We also will need to conduct additional tests on him, but we’ll need permission to proceed.”

“ _Additional_ tests?”

“Yes for sexually transmitted diseases, HIV…he should also have a more thorough internal exam to determine just how much damage was caused.”

“He won’t…”

Doctor Masterson gently grasped the young woman’s arm saying, “Miss Scuito, if I may?”

“Ah yeah. Sure, sure.”

“He _chose_ you. Out of all others you were the one he chose. He already knew to you all his medical issues would eventually be revealed. He TRUSTS you or he would have never chose you. I would dare to say he trusts you above any other. He knows what giving you that power entails. He already knows you will be informed of everything we find. He even told you while half asleep that he NEEDS you to do this for him because right now he can’t do it for himself. He no doubt knows EXACTLY what we are covering right now. You say he won’t agree, but I believe that he will.”

“But he… Rape? He won’t ever admit to that. It’s just too…”

“Traumatizing? Miss Scuito, he may never speak of it, but to you? I believe he will.”

“But…”

“He CHOSE you.”

Nodding she simply stated, “We have to ask him, don’t we...at least about the internal exam?”

“For the tests technically you could make that decision for him. He has given you the right to do so.”

“But the internal…no, no he needs to make that decision. He needs to know and tell us how to proceed.”

“I agree, but he may struggle to do so.”

Nodding she offered a quiet, “Okay go ahead and conduct the tests. As for the internal exam... _that_ we will ask him about.”

“I will insure that the two of you are alone for this conversation.”

Sagging in relief she said, “Thank you.”

“So shall we tend to this now or would you rather…”

“Now. I think now would be best. I think he may be a bit more…cooperative right now. Yeah, now would be good.”

“Then let’s go.”

“Nothing else needs discussed?”

“Right now we will focus on this. Once we have resolved this issue we can readdress the others.”

Nodding she drew in a calming breath determined to speak with Tony about what needed to be done.

**

After urging Gibbs and the Director to get something to eat, she quietly entered his hospital room. Approaching she settled beside him gently grasping his hand, ever cautious of the broken fingers and excessive bruising present. Her touch drew him awake. Opening his eyes he softly exhaled before managing, “Abs, what…?” Glancing up at the doctor standing non-invasively near the door Tony lifted an exhausted gaze her way before nodding and turning his head towards his friend. His eyes sliding shut of their own accord before he forced them open again and to settle on Abby. Licking his dry lips he uttered, “Told you…didn’t she?”

Abby focused intently on him gently grasping his hand while pressing the other one to his swollen cheek. Sweeping her thumb tenderly over it she said, “Tony…”

His eyes fluttered briefly closed before opening them to offer a quiet, “Yeah?”

“Can I…? I need to speak with you.”

“Hmm, knew you would,” came his drowsy response.

“The doctor says that we need to run some tests.”

Tony nodded, lowering his gaze as if ashamed before glancing briefly at the door as if searching for…

“I asked him to get me something to drink, actually told them both to get something to eat, so we could talk in private.”

Closing his eyes he nodded offering a strained, “Thanks for that…”

He was extremely tired. She could tell. Drawing in a calming breath she continued, “I've already given consent to the tests but...”

"There's more..."

"They want to conduct a more thorough internal exam to determine the..."

Drawing in a shaky breath he muttered a tense, “Has to be done, Abs.”

“Tony, you don’t have to…”

“Would rather know now then find out later.”

“Tony…”

“Picked you, Abs…trust you.”

“Okay but if you find you can’t…”

“Ask…”

“Tony we don’t have to…”

“Ask.”

“Okay. Can…can you tell us how long ago…?”

Softly sighing eyes once again closed he quietly admitted, “Not in a while.”

“Assaults?”

“Also…not in while… More frequent, not so brutal… Still hurt but…think, scar tissue mostly…”

“The doctor says you have some.”

“Yeah…m’sure I do. It’s okay, Abs… Tell her to do what needs done.”

“Mister…” quietly interrupted the doctor.

“Tony, please.”

“Tony, we could run a basic kit…”

“Probably won’t help…”

“Why do you say it probably won’t help?”

“The actual…act…been…few weeks. Stopped when food, water restricted…said too dangerous.”

“The assaults?”

“Those too.”

“Was it more than one…?”

“Yes…at least one other.”

“One other?” questioned Abby. Tony licked his lips before answering, “Assailants, Abs. Certain it was two, felt different, smelled different…”

“What do you mean by _smelled different_ , Tony?”

“Kept blindfolded, Abs, damned near entire time. Hearing…have really good hearing now.”

“You always did.”

“Oh believe me…much sharper now. Hearing, touch…smell enhanced…survival instincts…”

“Eliminate one sense…”

“All others…compensate.”

“How much…?”

“Can hear him pace…back and forth.”

 _"What?”_ asked Abby in surprise while turning towards the door, Tony smiled weakly continuing “Relax…only been there about a minute…incessant pacing…talking with Director.”

Turning back in shock she asked, “Tony, how could you _know_ that?”

“Told you…had to rely on other senses…for very long time. You can let him in.”

“What? But…”

“Abs, he’ll…wear a hole…start scaring the nurses. Let him in… Needs to be near.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Couldn’t…protect me. Now back…afraid to let me out of sight…for long. It’ll pass but for now…”

The doctor smiled seeing him relax deeper into sleep, still alert but barely. She commented, “You seem to know him very well.”

“Spent years…with him and Abby,” yawning, settling further he mumbled, “So yeah.”

Abby aware he was fading fast softly encouraged, “Go to sleep, Tony. We’ll discuss this more later.”

“Let her…needs done.”

“Okay, Tony. I will.”

“Hmm, Gibbs in…”

Nodding to the doctor she opened the door. The moment she did Gibbs was entering, racing over to Tony’s bedside tension only easing on his face as his eyes settled on a now apparently asleep Tony who startled her again with a soft “Told ya’, Abs.”

She smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek saying, “Go to sleep, Tony. Your guardian’s here.”

Tony snickered before drifting away. Gibbs relaxed as his SFA settled more asking pointedly, “ _Guardian_ , Abs?”

“Well yeah, Gibbs. You’ve been watching him like a hawk...”

“Failed him once. Don’t intend to EVER make that mistake again.”

The confession startled her for she knew that’s how he felt but never expected him to openly admit it. She knew Tony’s abduction greatly affected Gibbs, hell _all_ of them, but was certain she’d never see just how much. Now she had to admit she might have been wrong.

Vance quietly entered approaching he asked, “How is he?”

Gibbs answered, “Sleeping.”

“Good. He needs it.”

Both Abby and Gibbs looked at him having not expected that comment. Approaching Vance settled his gaze on Tony’s face, a tired exhausted, “You’re staring, Director,” came back. Vance chuckled shaking his head as he quietly urged, “Get some rest, Agent DiNozzo. We have your back.”

Nodding slightly he soon drifted asleep. Vance turned to the doctor greeting, “Doctor Masterson.”

“Director Vance.”

“How’s our patient?”

“Exhausted, weak, but he’s a fighter, stubborn too.”

“He been sleeping much?”

“Uh some yes, but…”

“Not deeply or any length of time?”

“No.”

“Let me guess nightmares?”

“I believe so. Yeah.”

“And no sedatives or pain meds?”

“No, not at this time.”

Nodding he returned his gaze to his sleeping agent ignoring the suspicious gaze of Gibbs and the curious one of Miss Scuito’s. The oddness of the situation only broken when Jimmy Palmer entered the room. The doctor greeted him before looking at each person individually and softly reminding, “Visitor’s hours will be over shortly, gentlemen, lady.”

She then turned heading for the door only to halt as Jimmy said, “Um think you’ll have a bit of difficulty with that, Doctor.”

“Meaning?”

“We just got him back. There is no way in hell _any of us_ are going to leave.”

She ascertained each person in turn before nodding in acquiescence replying, “Fine, but I insist that you try to keep it to only two people in his room at a time. You’re welcome to stay in the waiting room just down the hall, and to look in on him. But if you disturb his rest I’ll personally kick each and every one of you out. Understood?”

Four nods came back. Turning to exit the room no one saw the small smile forming upon her lips.

As she headed towards the main desk the nurse smiled greeting, “Doctor Masterson.”

“Well you were right.”

She glanced down the hallway her own smile gracing her lips as she continued, “They’re always like that. Learned really quickly to put them in one of the most private rooms we have… It’s nice, you know.”

“What is?”

“To see the way they rally around one another.”

“It will be good for him. He needs all the support he can get.”

Eyes glancing briefly at the doctor before settling once more on the now closed door to his room Maria quietly asked, “How bad is he?”

Doctor Masterson looked intently at her a question on her lips. Maria cut her off with a simple, “I’ve been here nearly every single time one of Agent Gibbs’ teammates have been hurt, even when it was him. I see how they are with one another.”

Arching a brow she inquired curiously, “They’re a force to be reckoned with, aren’t they Maria?”

“You have no idea.”

Nodding she continued, “Good because that young man in there will need ALL of their help and support to make it through the challenges he is now facing.”

Maria’s expression turned sad and grim as she prodded, “He was hurt really badly this time, wasn’t he Doctor Masterson?”

Her eyes also turning towards the room at the end of the hall she simply replied, “Yes. Yes he was.”

“They’re good people, Doctor Masterson.”

“I sure hope you’re right.”

“I am.” 

Silence fell between them for several long moments before Maria cautioned, “Expect him to have a few more visitors soon.”

“A few more?”

“They’re not all here yet, also he’ll most likely have a visit from Doctor Pitt at some point tonight as well.”

“Brad?”

“Yes, Agent DiNozzo is one of his patients, came under his care several years ago.”

“Right the damage to his lungs.”

“Yeah. It was really bad. Agent DiNozzo has standing appointments with him, though he’s not been by in some time.”

“Yes, sadly there was a reason for that, a terrible reason.”

“What happened to him, Doctor Masterson?”

Focusing on the nurse she simply answered, “Political prisoner, Maria, for a...a long time.”

“Oh.”

“Expect the FBI to be arriving at some point tonight as well.”

Nodding she informed, “They’re already here. They accompanied him in um Agent Fornell is lingering around here somewhere, the others I’m not sure. They might have headed home.”

“Agent Fornell?”

“Agent assigned to his case…” noting the sudden tension in the doctor Maria quickly informed, “He’s a good guy too. Been here before…close friend of the team.”

“Ah, of course he is.”

Maria smiled as she continued, “Small circles, Doctor.”

She changed the topic informing, “I have to run a few tests on him, and get him on oxygen. The others will be staying, but if they get in his way or ours…”

Maria interrupted “They won’t. They’ve done this enough. They know when to step back, plus one of his co-workers was, is a doctor as well.”

“I see. I’ll be back shortly. Please keep an eye on them and confirm ID’s of any who attempt to gain access to his room.”

“You expecting trouble, Doctor Masterson?”

“No, but it never hurts to be prepared.”

Nodding she watched as the doctor left her eyes once again drifting to the closed door at the end of the hall. Turning upon hearing someone’s approach she smiled in greeting as she asked, “Decided to return?”

“Yeah. Are they…?”

“Yes. Miss Scuito, the Director, Agent Gibbs and that young man uh Palmer.”

“Full room.”

“As always, Agent Fornell, as always. You can go on in if you promise not to disturb him. Though I imagine at this time his room is a might bit crowded. I expect they’ll soon be leaving to let him sleep plus the Doc has a few more tests to run.”

“Well then I’ll just wait out here.”

He then approached one of the chairs in the immediate area settling down before quietly sipping his coffee. 

Maria smiled aware that he was worried and concerned and wanted to be near to keep watch over the young man hopefully asleep in his room. Small circles, indeed.

**

_Bethesda Naval Hospital_

_Intensive Care Unit – Tony’s Room_

_Early the next morning…_

Quietly entering his hospital room she approached the presently sleeping man unsurprised when he turned and quietly greeted, “Hey Doc, so…what’s prognosis?”

“Mister DiNozzo…”

“Tony, please.”

“Tony, you should be resting.”

“Uh come on Doc, know you’ve dealt with patients like me before…”

“Yes, I have. How did you…?”

“Your approach…cautious, concerned…non-invasive… ‘m relieved, actually.”

“You are?”

Eyes falling shut of their own accord he simply nodded. Drawing in a deep breath only to forcefully cough. She reached for the oxygen mask, glad she had brought it into his room the previous night. She extended it and waited offering a soft, quiet, “Oxygen, Tony…”

Opening his eyes he squinted up at her, eyeing her suspiciously before his gaze settled on the item in her hand. After several moments he nodded. She asked, “Want me to…”

His answer was another cough. Slowly she pressed it over his mouth and nose helping him lift his hand to hold it himself. She then gently coached, “Slow Tony, in and out. Relax. It’s just a different way of administering oxygen.”

He nodded and after several moments was able to remove it. Licking dry cracked lips, eyes once again closed he managed, “Thanks, Doc…helps.”

Smiling warmly she inquired, “How are you feeling today? You need someone to move you into a more comfortable position?”

Shaking his head he answered, “Mm Abs helped…”

“And where is Miss Scuito this morning? I expected to find her here.”

“Sent her…eat. Stubborn…that one. Won’t go unless tell her too.”

“She’s a very good friend, Tony.”

A ghost of a smile spread across his lips before he nodded releasing a slow breath and relaxing further against the mound of pillows offering his extremely damaged body some much needed support. 

The Doctor continued, “No one else nearby?”

“Mm…Gibbs…coffee run. Tobias…bathroom…”

As if to prove his words the door opened and the older FBI agent from last night exited the bathroom. He approached Tony and asked the Doctor, “He behaving?”

“Yes. I was just checking on him.”

“Gotta watch this one, Doctor. He’s a super magnet for trouble.”

Tony released a dry chuckle before offering, “Thanks Tobias.”

He carefully placed a hand on Tony’s upper arm as he softened his voice urging, “Go to sleep, DiNozzo, I’ve got your back.”

Tony nodded sleepily before surrendering to it yet again. The Doctor watched him then focused on the older agent as she said, “He’s resting again.”

“Good. Gibbs says he seems more restless than before.”

“Makes sense with what he experienced he most likely wasn’t able to lower his defenses, probably hasn’t slept well in a rather long time. With all of you assuring him that you’re with him or nearby…I believe it’s helping a lot more than any of you realize. He’s lucky to have all of you.”

“We’re just glad we finally have him back.”

“How long’s it been? If…if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Six months, a very _long_ and very _stressful_ six months, Doctor Masterson.”

“It’ll take some time for him to heal and recover, you know.”

“I know, so do all the others. We’re all determined to see him through it. He has a long, hard road ahead of him, but he’s a very stubborn and tenacious bastard. He’ll make it through.”

The door quietly opened and both the Doctor and Fornell turned to see Abigail Scuito enter. She immediately focused on Tony relaxing when she noticed he was asleep and quietly asked, “How is he?”

Fornell answered, “Was awake a few moments ago, just fell back to sleep.”

“Good. Morning, Doctor Masterson.”

“Good morning, Miss Scuito.”

Lowering into the chair beside his bed she gently wrapped her hand around his. He shifted towards her, eyes remaining closed as he mumbled “You eat, Abs?”

“Sure did, Tony. Now you get some rest, okay?”

“’Kay…”

He settled once again this time deeper asleep. The doctor focused on the young woman as she softly requested, “Miss Scuito, I’ll need to speak with you again.”

Lifting her gaze from studying her slumbering friend she answered, “Sure but can we wait a few moments. At least until Gibbs or Jimmy gets here? I…I want to make sure he falls back asleep and…”

“Sure. Sure we can wait, Miss Scuito.”

Moments later Jimmy Palmer entered asking just as quietly, “How is he?”

“Falling asleep. Jimmy, will you stay with him? Doctor Masterson needs to talk to me about a few more things.”

“Sure can, Abs.” Looking up at the FBI agent standing off to Abby’s left he greeted, “Agent Fornell.”

“Mister Palmer.”

Settling in the empty chair beside Abby he greeted, “Hey, Tony. It’s Jimmy. I’m going to sit with you for a while okay?”

Consciousness seeping in again, he uttered a soft, barely audible, “Hmm wha…? Abs…”

Smiling warmly she greeted, “Hey Tony. How are you feeling?”

Forcing his eyes open he focused intently on her studying her for several intense moments before licking his lips and turning his gaze onto the doctor. After studying her for just as long he focused on Jimmy managing a soft huff before speaking, “Got doctor stuff to do…”

“Yes. She needs to speak with me again. Jimmy and Fornell are going to sit with you while I’m gone. Gibbs will be back soon as well. Okay?”

Nodding his eyes drifted shut before he blinked them open again. Focusing on her he managed, “Needs…done, Abs.”

The doctor studied the two intently for a moment before addressing, “Tony? Can I ask you something?”

Eyes sliding shut again he offered a slight nod before feeling a warm hand once again encompass his own and gently squeeze. The doctor continued, “If you don’t want to answer you don’t have to it’s your choice. Okay?”

Licking his lips he spoke, “Ask…’way.”

She paused glancing from him up to Agent Fornell then towards Mister Palmer on the verge of refusing to in front of an audience when Fornell informed he was going to check on Gibbs and Tony informed, “Jimmy can stay.”

“Are you sure? This is a doctor-patient issue. Miss Scuito is here as your medical proxy but Mister Palmer…”

“Can stay… Trust him…”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

“Well okay but if at any time…”

“Thanks Doc.”

Nodding she studied him for several moments before continuing, “I need to ask you a few questions, and I need you to be completely honest with me. I know this will be difficult for you so if you can’t…”

His eyes opened flicking nervously to Abby who tightened her grip cautious of his injured hand. She then verbally reassured, “I’m here, Tony. I’m here.”

He focused on his friend grateful for her presence. Eyes sliding closed again he forced them open before admitting, “Try, not sure…how long’ll be awake though.”

“I know and I understand, but I have to ask this.”

Nodding, he waited for the doctor to continue soon she was, “Tony, there’s no easy way to approach this…”

“Just ask…”

“Okay. Tony, you’re severely malnourished, and we need to start getting nutrients into your system…”

He paled immediately, breath suddenly increasing, growing harsh as he reflexively tightened his hold on Abby’s hand.

The doctor noticed the tension in him, the sudden anxiety and nodded as she softly commented, “You were forced, weren’t you to…to eat?”

Licking his lips nervously he began to sweat. Abby started telling him he was safe, that he was okay. She looked up concerned. The doctor continued, “I need to know, so I don’t trigger a relapse or cause you more pain. Tony, did they ever…?”

“Yes.”

“Often?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell me what method…?”

“No tubes.”

Abby continued to hold his hand the other she began to gently run through his hair in an attempt to soothe and calm him. The tension in his body was worrying, and she had to resist the urge to snap at the doctor to leave him alone. 

Doctor Masterson was intently studying her obviously distraught patient aware that she was pushing him, but she _needed_ to know. She had to be persistent with this so she continued, “Okay, okay, Tony, no tubes…I promise. What about an IV instead, a needle and nutrient shakes, would that be better?”

Forcing out the tense breath he’d been holding he tried to focus fully on the gentle strokes Abby was administering overly aware of just how desperately he had ached and longed for months to be comforted like that. He was home. He was safe. No one would hurt him here. Abby wouldn’t allow it. Forcing himself to calm further and focus his mind back onto the present he nodded. 

Looking at Abby feeling relieved she said, “We’ll use the intravenous method and get him started on nutrient shakes. We’ll also need to make sure he’s sipping water at regular intervals,” she said while indicating the water sitting near his bed. She continued, “The water is mixed with glucose make sure he takes small sips. I can also bring in some fruit juice as well. The shakes will be a little more difficult to swallow but with a straw it should aid…”

“Why difficult?”

Tony answered that question, “Throat…tender…plus lack of water… Fed…long time. Couldn’t…” his voice cracked and started fading on him but he forced himself to continue, “Couldn’t eat…normal. Too long…”

“How long would you say?”

He tried to focus on her, but his eyes were growing heavier. After several moments he managed in a whisper as his voice had decided it too needed the rest, “No concept…time…guess two, three…”

“Weeks?”

“Months…doc…months, when they did…that is.”

Nodding the doctor focused on the young woman who also nodded before adding, “So no tubes.”

“No. He won’t be able to handle one. Luckily we can use the IV.”

“But won’t the straw have the same…”

“No. It wasn’t forcibly inserted, so no.”

He swallowed hard before adding, “No restraints either… Mmm can’t…won’t go well.”

Nodding she continued to address her fast fading patient reassuringly, “That’s perfectly understandable and expected” before turning towards the young woman to further explain, “We’ll need to find a way to stabilize his arm to insert the IV. One of you may have to hold it while we try to find a viable vein. We’ll try a forearm first, if that fails then we’ll have to try a leg vein…”

Palmer interceded then, “And if that fails?”

“Neck vein or ankle as a last resort.”

Abby focused on Tony noticing that his eyes were once again closed. He was also shivering. The moment she noticed she quickly stopped stroking his hair and worked on tugging the covers up over him. Jimmy quickly approached carefully placing another, thicker blanket over top the others tucking the ends firmly about him and prompting Tony to softly say, “Thanks…’m was getting…cold.”

Reaching up she resumed her gentle strokes urging, “Go to sleep, Tony. We have your back. We won’t let anything bad happen to you. Promise.”

He released a soft huff before mumbling, “’M tired…”

“I know you are. Sleep. We’ll be right here. Not going anywhere.”

Nodding he released a soft sigh soon drifting asleep under her tender ministrations.

The doctor smiled as she softly commented, “He’s very lucky to have you, you know. You help him to feel safe. Help him feel secure enough to lower his guard. He needs that right now more than anything.”

Continuing to gently brush a hand through his hair Abby questioned, “Still need to speak with me, Doctor?”

“Uh yes but the rest can wait.”

“Are you sure. I mean if…”

“Yes I’m sure. My main concern right now is getting nutrients back into him. He _needs_ to eat, Miss Scuito. We need to work on reversing the starvation and dehydration. Now that we know which direction to take we can begin working at it.”

Nodding she questioned, “How long do you think it’ll take…you know to get him eating normal foods again?”

Sighing she softly answered, “With the severity of the starvation, as well as the severe dehydration, we will need to work on slowly introducing nutrients, food and liquids back into his system. If we go too fast we could trigger refeeding syndrome and the consequences of that are…disastrous. He’ll need a lot of rest, and we will need to keep him constantly warm. His body temperature, as you just noticed, will fluctuate a lot more and the cold will bother him much more than before…”

“What’s refeeding syndrome, Doctor?”

“It’s a potentially fatal shift in fluids and electrolytes. The shifts are the result of hormonal and metabolic changes that could cause serious complications.”

“You mean it will cause hazardous changes to his glucose, sodium, protein and thiamine levels among other things. Don’t you Doc?”

She gaped at the young woman in shock prompting Abby to reveal, “I’m a Forensics Scientist.”

“Oh that I didn’t know.”

“So basically if he’s given too much too fast it will mess up his already messed up levels and possibly result in… Okay so that’s bad. How can we AVOID _that_?”

Her mouth quirked at the corners. She was beginning to like this young woman. She was quick and inquisitive. She took all that she had been told in stride and placed all her energy, attention and focus onto her patient, into keeping him as comfortable as she was able. When she had met her the previous evening she had to admit she wasn’t ready to take her seriously. Upon discovering her identity she knew she’d have to deal with her directly, so she suppressed her worry. She had been uncertain as to why this woman had been chosen by her severely injured patient to make such important decisions for him. The longer she observed them, spoke with her and with him the more she began to realize just why. It was a relief to see and also to know that many of the things she needed to discuss and explain would be fully understood. Feeling much better about the situation she answered, “By slowly reintroducing what he’s presently lacking…”

“Potassium, Magnesium and Phosphorus?”

“Yes.”

“So vitamin supplementation first?”

“Yes.”

“And these shakes you mentioned?”

“They’re a special formula that he’ll be required to drink for some time. It’s necessary before we ween him back onto solid foods.”

“Okay then.” Silence fell between them for several more moments before she interrupted it again with, “And the tests you said you’d need to run? All those X-rays?”

The doctor's gaze settled again on her now sleeping patient before returning to focus on the young man and woman. She could see they had more they wanted to discuss so she softly suggested, "Why don't we move this into the hall."

Abby nodded then turned to address a sleeping Tony, "We won't be far. We'll be right outside that door if you need anything. Okay, Tony?" He didn't answer as he was now deeply asleep but she felt much better telling him where they'd be anyways. Lowering she placed a tender kiss onto his temple before proceeding the doctor out of the room Palmer right behind her.

Once in the hallway Abby and Jimmy both turned to watch their sleeping friend through the windows of his room. Abby posing her questions yet again, "The tests and X-rays?"

The doctor too studied her patient through the windows answering, "I’ll be coming to retrieve him in a little while.”

Palmer interrupted then, “Are those the cervical spine and pelvis X-rays, Doctor?”

“Why yes. How did you…?”

“I looked at his initial intake report and know you haven’t conducted them yet even though they’re standard SOP upon first admission.”

“Yes. The chest X-rays I had to…”

“Right because he came in with possible fractured or broken ribs.”

“Yes.”

“And…?”

“Two broken, several bruised. As for the other two X-rays with his recent history… I’m erring on the side of caution.”

Jimmy nodded as he simply stated, “I take it he isn’t your first then?”

Young but perceptive. Her patient sure had a group of rather interesting friends. “No. No he’s not…my first that is.”

“Will you be conducting the bone scintigraphy, ultrasonography and CT scan today then?”

“If he can handle them yes.”

Jimmy eyed her suddenly very mistrusting as he frostily inquired, “Is that even _plausible_ , Doctor Masterson?”

Sighing she answered honestly, “No. The truth is I’d _like_ to get him through the tests and all subsequent X-rays as quickly and painlessly as I can…”

“But?”

He was cautious and leery. She liked him…a lot. He was definitely looking out for his friend’s best interests. She continued, “I don’t think we’ll even manage one.”

Abby jumped in questioning, “Why not? He needs them, doesn’t he?”

Jimmy focused on her, expression softening, as he replied “Yes he does, but Abby he was _tortured_.”

“I know that!”

Wrapping his arms around the now distraught young woman he drew her close as he continued voice quieter than previously, “The tests she needs to run… They have the potential to terrify him just as much as the NG intubation.”

She jerked her head up asking, “How’d you…”

“Up and coming doctor here. Remember?”

Smiling briefly she nodded and relaxed against him as he continued, “The X rays and exams she would need to run… They are similar to some of the trauma he may have been, most likely _was_ exposed to.”

“Such as?”

The doctor interrupted then just as quietly, “MRI’s for example. It could be months before he’ll even be able to have one administered.”

“But…why? I mean…”

“They are very _confining_ for one.”

Palmer continued, “And the noise they emit sounds a lot like rapid fire machine guns. Abby, we know he was being held in an active war zone. Machine gun fire was, no doubt, common place there. The sound… It could be a potential trigger for him. We don’t know. Hell _Tony_ doesn’t even know what his triggers could potentially be until…”

“Triggers?”

“Abby, you know what I’m talking about and if you don’t then you may want to do some reading on survivors of trauma.”

She lowered her head against him nearly hiding her face as she quietly confessed, “I was kind of hoping he wouldn’t, you know, have to deal with all of that stuff.”

Reaching up with his left hand he gently lifted her chin looking directly in her eyes as he said, “I know. Me too, but we have to be realistic here, Abby. It was a _long time_ and we have no idea what he went through there. All we can do is try our best to support him in any way we can, and deal with what comes along as it does.”

Nodding she tightened her hold on Jimmy before simply saying, “Thanks…for everything.”

Doctor Masterson studied the two noticing that they seemed very close. If these two would be her patient’s primary support he might just make it through. Hesitant to interrupt but feeling the need to she said, “I am a bit concerned about the bone scintigraphy though.”

“Why? Is there an immediate concern?”

Releasing a tense breath she assessed both of them before admitting, “He has a hip pointer injury, left side, and extensive deep bruising that runs the length of the same leg from hip to just above his knee. It looks to be the result of repeated trauma with…with a blunt object, looks like it could have been a baton or heavy stick.”

“Tram track bruising present?”

“Yes some.”

“Some?”

“The bruise is extensive and rather large. It even wraps around his outer thigh onto the back of his leg and his left buttocks. The tram track bruising is closer towards his knee. The rest of the outer thigh is…it’s severely bruised and I’ve no doubt that there is both muscle and bone bruising.”

“Hip fracture?”

“I don’t believe so, but was hoping that the bone scintigraphy would let me know for sure.”

“He exhibit or complain of any groin pain?”

“No, which is a good sign, but I would like to be certain. I have him propped and braced with pillows for now to try to keep weight off of his left side and have applied compression to the area, though that is a bit tricky due to the open lesions across his back. I’ve also been icing it off and on throughout the night. Normally I would also administer anti-inflammatory drugs and pain medications but…”

“It’s too risky with his severe weight loss.”

“Yes.”

“Is there a lot of swelling?”

“It’s lessened some but…yes more than I’d like to see. It’s actually a wonder.”

“What is?”

Gaze shifting to settle on her apparently now deep asleep patient she admitted, “That he can sleep at all considering the intense amount of pain he is most likely in.”

“Well exhaustion’s probably playing a part in that, Doctor.”

“Yes but he is no doubt in severe pain and at present we can do _nothing_ to ease it… Even exhaustive sleep can be easily disrupted by pain, and he needs deep sleep almost as much as the oxygen. He’s not only exhausted, but indicators of sleep deprivation are present as well.”

“I would be surprised if there weren’t considering what he, no doubt, went through and the length of his imprisonment. As for his ability to sleep so deeply right now? I’d also attribute that to the fact that this is probably the most comfortable he has been in months…plus he’s surrounded by people who keep reassuring him that they are watching over him. That alone would go a long way in reassuring Tony.”

Nodding she re-entered the room noting the two quickly retook their recently vacated seats. Smiling at the action she turned her focus on conducting a basic assessment of her patient’s condition, checking his stats and making notes before excusing herself to check on her other patients. As she left the room she noticed both the young man and woman settle further in their chairs. Both watching over their deeply asleep friend.

Entering the hall her smile brightened further upon seeing Agent Gibbs also returning apparently in an intense conversation with Agent Fornell. Thank heavens he seemed to have a good support system around him. There were far too many admitted who sadly did not.

Casting one last glance through the glass windows of his room she started to relax. Her newest patient had been through sheer hell. How he had survived some of the obvious injuries she had categorized upon his initial assessment she had no idea. Right now he seemed to be calm for the most part, but she knew that was mainly due to the fact that he was too tried to focus on much else. As he began to heal and his strength returned she was certain that all those monsters presently hovering in the shadows would re-emerge to torment him. Luckily it appeared that he had plenty of people willing to tackle those monsters for him and with him when that happened.

Pushing those troubling thoughts aside she smiled in greeting at the two fast approaching agents informing them that he was presently asleep and she’d be back to check on him in a little while. Nodding in acknowledgement they thanked her then quietly entered his room once again.

**

It was several hours later that soft voices drew him back to awareness. Momentarily confusing him as they seemed to be _whispering_? What? What the hell were the colonel and Akeem up to now? Why were they whispering? Why… Wait. No. The voices. They were different, not the colonel and definitely _not_ Akeem. What? 

Shaking his head in an attempt to clear the momentary fog that hovered his awareness continued to tug at him. New memories and images flitted across his mind: Gibbs’ concerned voice, urging him to move, telling him that he needed to stay with him. Another voice, another person…Balboa also urging him to keep moving, guiding him, leading him towards freedom… Jolting awake as they came to an unexplained halt. Gibbs helping him to stand, leading him into a…a cargo plane was it? Sleeping on that plane surrounded by several people and feeling safe for the first time in _ages_. And Fornell? Helping him? Yes, into an ambulance. Waking in the emergency room, concerned voices then…then Abby and…

“Abigail I…” The familiar voice speaking a very familiar name confirmed it. He was _home_. Relief filtered in as he recognized the voices, but as his mind started making sense of the whispered conversation he had been privy to while struggling back to consciousness he was saddened by what he was hearing. Something was wrong with Ziva. Something had happened to her. What? Why were they discussing Ziva? What was going on? Licking his lips he forced a barely audible, “What’s wrong…Zi?” 

Silence fell in the room and he waited hoping for an explanation. Instead he received a warm greeting from Ducky, “It’s good to see you, my dear boy. We were all very worried…”

“Duck…good…see you too.” Without further hesitation he managed a persistent, “Zi…?”

Ducky glanced briefly at his two co-workers wondering how much he had overheard. Unsure of what to say he settled his gaze upon the young man choosing to do a visual assessment instead, but Tony wouldn’t be dissuaded. Licking his lips, tired eyes flicking briefly to Abby and Palmer then back to Ducky he prodded, “Ziva?”

Ducky seemed to sadden. While Abby gently bit into her bottom lip and Palmer offered a quiet sigh before answering, “She’s been…struggling with a few things.”

Eyes sliding briefly shut he forced them back open nodding before persisting, “Like?” 

Abby interrupted then, “Nothing you need to be worried about, Tony.”

Pinning his friend with an intent gaze he continued, “Abby…tell me. Please.”

Lowering her gaze she drew in a calming breath before quietly answering, “She’s been dealing with a lot lately. Your disappearance…”

Eyes sliding shut he simply nodded. Drawing in a deep breath he released several harsh coughs relieved when Ducky pressed the oxygen mask into his palm and helped him to place it. The moment the mask was seated he drew in several slow, deep breaths feeling the sudden entrance of extra air into his lungs easing his discomfort. After several more moments he drew it away nodding in thanks when Ducky placed it back where he had retrieved it from. Tony swallowed hard filling in the gaps, “She’s remembering again, isn’t she?”

“Tony…”

“My captivity…brought hers…to surface.”

Ducky inserted a soft, “I fear she had to take some time off…”

Startled eyes found his as Ducky continued, “She has a meeting with Director Vance later this week.”

Biting firmer into her lip Abby hesitated to expand on that answer. Tony picking up on it continued, “Abs, know she hasn’t dealt… How bad s’it?”

Abby lowered beside Tony gently brushing a hand over his forehead and hair as she quietly urged, “Tony, you need to be resting not worrying about Ziva.”

Reaching out with his right hand he placed it on her free hand squeezing lightly as he managed, “Abby please? Tell me.”

Sighing she glanced down at his hand covering hers and carefully entwined their fingers replying quietly, “The Director had to put her on forced leave, and he insisted that she seek counseling.”

“And has she?”

“She has but…”

“Won’t allow…heal. Feels guilty?”

She nodded continuing in an even softer tone, “Yes. Tony, she may not be in to visit you for a bit…”

Relieved he muttered, “S’okay, understand.” Eyes once again sliding closed before he blinked them open again.

“Not your fault.”

“No but…” falling silent he tried to force his eyes to remain open sighing in frustration at just how exhausted he still felt. Licking his lips he managed a harsh, “And…’Gee?”

Jimmy entertained that question, “Being monitored closely for possible burn out.”

He gaped as Abby continued, “It’s been really difficult. We’ve all been working really hard to find you and bring you home.”

Nodding, eyes once again sliding closed, he murmured, “Not sure ready…see yet…anyway.”

“Tony.”

“Abby you know how hard it was. Before… I was on the verge ‘self. You _know_ that.”

Hearing the cracking and fading in his voice she retrieved the glass on the stand beside his bed and lifted it softly urging, “Here. Water. It’ll help.” He acquiesced taking several small sips when she gently pressed the rim of the cup to his lips. As he did so he sagged in relief not realizing how parched he actually was until she offered the liquid. After taking several more sips he managed a half-hearted, “Bit sweet…”

Smiling warmly she simply answered, “It’s _supposed_ to be sweet, Tony. We need to get your glucose levels back up. We could try one of the fruit juices…”

“Nah water’s fine.”

“Drink some more.”

Huffing in frustration he accepted the liquid taking several more small sips and releasing a quiet, “Hmm… Thanks.”

Jimmy spoke then interrupting, returning to their former discussion “Toxic environments will do that to you.”

As both Ducky and Abby looked at him puzzled Jimmy realized he spoke that statement aloud and hesitantly continued, “Burn you out, I mean.”

“Pretty damned toxic,” Tony muttered in reply. Abby brushed her free hand through Tony’s hair as she sadly agreed, “I know.”

Tony opened his eyes again managing, “Know?”

Jimmy provided an explanation, “Abby has been struggling a lot with…”

Ducky assisted, “For a time we were all struggling to work with them. It proved quite the challenge.”

Jimmy attempted to soften the blow as he assured, “But Abby and I are closer…as a result…”

Tony nodded asking, “Got bad?”

“For a time yes.”

“’M sorry.”

“No, no Tony. You have no need to apologize. You did _nothing_ wrong. It’s been a rough few months for all of us, but we’re through it now and we have you back. Now we need to focus on getting you back on your feet again.”

“Long road ‘head, Abs…very long.”

“And we’ll be with you every step of the way, my dear boy.”

“Thanks Duck…”

“You are quite welcome.”

Abby held the glass of water up again but Tony shook his head. Sitting the glass back down she switched her attention to fussing with his covers drawing them up to his neck and gently tucking them about his body. A soft smile touched Tony’s lips as he managed an exhausted, “Hmm so nice be warm...’gain. Couldn’t get…there. They always kept so cold.”

His eyes were once again closed so he missed the surprised exchange between his three present minders. Soon he was shifting, tugging the covers tighter about himself before settling into the pillows.

Aware that he was once again drifting asleep Abby pressed a tender kiss to his forehead whispering softly, “Don’t worry, Tony, we’ll keep all the monsters away.”

“Thanks…” came his whispered response before sleep once again wrapped him tightly in her embrace.


End file.
